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:u>ci/y^ 






A CROWN OF SHAME 


BY 

w 

OSCAR F. G. DAY 


AUTHOR OF “the DEVIL' S GOLD,” "a MISTAKEN IDEN- 
TITY,” ETC., ETC. 



CHICAGO 

MORRILL, HIGGINS & CO. 






Copyright 

1893 

Oscar F. G. Day 



W. B. CoNKEY Company, Printers and Binders 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. A Woman’s Wish 7 

II. Chasms Between Them 21 

III. Love Finds a Way 36 

IV. The Story of a Crime 49 

V. Yet it is the Law. 60 

VI. The Hour but Not the Man 74 

VII. The County Bastile. 87 

VIII. Charity Begins at Home 103 

IX. The Grand Humbug iii 

X. Man’s Inhumanity to Man 124 

XI. The Way of the Transgressor 136 

XII. Tried by his Peers 150 

XIII. One Against Many 163 

XIV. His Guardian Angel 176 

XV. How Money Makes the Law Go. .... 188 

XVI. The Modern Lord-High-Executioner 202 

XVII. A Small Conspiracy 216 

XVIII. Counting Unhatched Chickens 223 

XIX. In the Hands of a Master 236 

XX. The Official Evil 257 

XXL A Little Justice 279 

XXII. Bridging the Gulf 289 

XXIII. A Champion in Embryo 299 


4 



A CROWN OF SHAME. 

CHAPTER I. 

A woman’s wish. 

“I beg your pardon, but no less than a hall 
dozen trout have made a dash for your fly within 
the past five minutes. 

Only the handsome face of the speaker could be 
seen as one bronzed hand parted the willows, 
allowing its owner to peer through the swaying 
foliage at one of the fairest visions ever seen by 
man. 

It was early autumn, in the midst of the foot- 
hills in one of the mountainous districts of Colo- 
rado. The weather had been stormy for several 
days and the low scudding clouds still bore a threat- 
ening aspect, made doubly so by the occasional 
bursts of sunshine which broke through the rifts, 
and gave a passing golden hue to the varying land- 
scape, at the same time exposing to view the dimly 
7 


8 


A WOMAN^S WISH 


outlined cone of Gray's peak that towered overhead 
amidst the rolling clouds above and below its dizzy 
height. 

In a broken, rugged course down the little valley 
rushed the swollen brook, which after a foamy 
dance down a diminutive rapid, lost itself in a 
deep pool, at the edge of which was a huge gray 
boulder, touched in spots by patches of bright green 
moss. Hidden behind the rock, over which hung 
the swaying branches of a clump of willows, a 
young girl was seated upon a low stone, her two 
white and slender hands, upon which sparkled 
several costly brilliants, closely clasping her ele- 
vated knees. A tiny trout pole rested upon the 
boulder, its tip supporting the silken line, which 
held the hook with is gaudy fly, now being whirled 
about in the eddies of the deep pool, in which the 
speckled trout so loves to make its home. 

This was the vision the young man had perceived 
upon parting the obstructing twigs. Her back was 
toward him, and he could not see her face. He 
saw the tailor-made drab corduroy attire, which 
she was pleased to call her hunting suit, and the 
wealth of dark brown hair which the jaunty cap 
of the same material as the suit, displayed to 


A woman’s wish 


9 


advantage, and he knew that it was Eunice Allen 
whom he had surprised. 

She had been angling for trout, but the charm 
of the sylvan nook had overcome her, and she had 
fallen into a reverie. Lost in dreamland her large 
brown eyes were larger even than their wont, and 
the slightly parted lips displayed her pretty teeth 
to advantage. The cap, thrust back upon the head 
showed the low straightly outlined forehead, back 
from which the hair gently waved. The nose was 
prominent, but patriciant, the velvet cheeks prettily 
tinted, while the neck, slightly browned by the 
mountain sun, was full and round. 

After a fashion Miss Allen had been a spoiled child 
but the effect had not been quite as disastrous as is 
often the case with juvenile femininity, and she had 
grown to be a young woman, with less of the dis- 
agreeable in her character than might have been ex- 
pected. She was stubborn to a degree, and perhaps 
self-willed, for which she was not to blame. She had 
been told, ever since she could remember, that she 
was “not like other girls,’’ and she had grown to 
believe it to such an extent that she had rather 
cultivated the oddities of her nature. At the 
moment, she was contemplating a course of action 


lO 


A woman’s wish 


which was to bring out at least two of her own 
peculiar traits of character, and in that contempla- 
tion she had forgotten that she was supposed to be 
angling for the most wily fish that lives, and had 
allowed her bait to be too closely inspected by 
about half the fish in the pool. 

She did not turn her head as the intruder spoke. 
She recognized the voice, and knew that it was only 
Hector, the mountain guide, and that it would 
scarcely be good form to pay the young man too 
much attention, even though he was as handsome 
as a blonde god — if gods ever were possessed of 
golden locks. She awoke from her dream, how- 
ever, and assumed a slightly more formal posture 
as she raised her glance so as to take in the tower- 
ing peak, from which the clouds had drifted for a 
short time. The sun broke through, and its rays 
were scattered into a shower of golden darts by 
the intervening leaves, mottling the upturned head, 
the brilliants upon her fingers sending back their 
fiery rays as if in greeting to the god of light. 

“The fish were not uppermost in my mind,^’ she 
said idly. “At any rate, I am tired of fishing. I 
have a dozen already,” indicating by a wave of the 
hand a basket lying where it had been thrown at 
her side. 


A woman's wish 


II 


He swept away the willow branches with a 
motion of his strong arm, and stepped into the 
little opening, nearer to her, his hat in his hand, 
a splendidly built type of handsome young man- 
hood, golden haired, gray-eyed, smooth shaven and 
perfect master of himself, a gentleman born, 
evidently, in spite of the coarse canvas knicker- 
bockers and leggings which encased his shapely 
limbs, and the old hunting jacket which covered 
a broad chest and bulging biceps. He noted her 
indifference, but it did not pique him. Gentleman 
or not, he knew his place and meant to keep it. 

“Shall I put up your rod for you.?'' he asked 
quietly. 

“You may if you wish," giving him for the first 
time the full benefit of her deep brown eyes. 

Quietly he lifted the slender rod from its resting 
place, hooked a trout which had made a spring for 
the darting bait, and coolly took it from the hook, 
after a sharp but decisive struggle. The girl 
watched him intently, seeming to be making of 
him a character study. 

“Would you do very much to please me, Mr. 
Forbes.?" she asked suddenly, at the same time 
turning her head in the direction of the mountain, 
and partially away from him. 


12 


A woman’s wish 


He turned to look at her. His face had flushed 
slightly at first, and there was a questioning look 
in his eyes. Then he looked grave, and apparently 
bit his lip slightly, as if angry with himself for 
some thought, before he answered curtly, “Much.” 

“I am about to ask of you a favor. It is not 
what my father might wish me to ask, nor is it 
what I cannot secure his forgiveness for afterward. 
Will you help me.^^” 

“I would not like to displease your father,” he 
began. “Mr. Allen has been more than kind to 
me, and — ” 

“Have not I been kind to you also.^^” She was 
a woman, and had put a coquettish tone and action 
into her question. He failed to heed it, from 
choice, proving that he had encountered gentle 
women before. 

“I was just about to state,” he continued, “that 
you have treated me with as much kindness and 
respect as if I were the gentleman I do not seem, 
and I would be at your command. I do not be- 
lieve that you would ask me to do aught that I 
should fear or hesitate to do.” 

She thanked him with a look, and there might 
have been a shade deeper tint to her cheeks as she 


A woman’s wish 


13 


heard his answer. Women love to conquer, and 
no slave is too poor or simple to give one of the 
sex a throb of pride at the consciousness of power 
to attract and win allegiance. 

While he awaited her further question, she 
turned her head again to look toward the peak 
above them. The grim rocks, towering high 
above where verdure clothed the earth, had a 
fascination for her. She was imaginative, and 
was ever drawn by the awful and grand in nature. 
The peak was buried in a mass of clouds again, 
the mountain side disappearing from view in the 
whirling mists. As she watched, the sun made 
an ineffectual effort to break through in a spot and 
a sheen of barred light fell upon the side of the 
steep mountain, looking like the corded shrouds to 
a ship. 

“Is it then so very difficult to reach Gray’s peak.?” 
she asked abruptly, without looking at him, and 
apparently not too concerned as to his reply. 

“To reach the mountain itself — no. To reach 
the cone — yes. Very difficult.” 

“What makes the trip so hazardous?” 

“The state of the mountain itself. The convul- 
sion of nature which formed these hills, mountains 


14 


A woman’s wish 


and peaks, played queer pranks when it left Gray’s 
peak to the coming of man. Chasms, boulders, 
precipices and steep ascents mark the only acces- 
sible route to the top of that towering monster. 
His eyes kindled as he spoke, and the memories 
of battles with the grim giant of nature came to 
him. “It is a fearful trip, but when one is at the 
summit, there is a sight to repay the weary and 
half-fainting climber. For hundreds of miles, 
stretches one of earth’s gardens, spread out a feast 
to the eye of the beholder. There one sees nature 
in her grandest garb, wild and beautiful. The 
distance removes the beholder from the knowledge 
of meaner man, and only the virgin landscape is 
visible, here and there perhaps dotted with a faint 
smoke from forge or smelter. One is above, and 
out of the world, cut off as it were from human 
kind. Rivers roll far below in their winding 
course. The earth is broken into a thousand hills, 
and should the day be clear, miles away to the 
west, stretch the glittering caps of the Snowy 
Range. At that height the surface of the earth 
appears like a huge bowl, with the peak its center. 
To one seeing it for the first time, the sight takes 
away the breath, and dizziness steals over the 


A woman’s wish 


15 


senses. There one realizes the power of the Great 
Unseen God, and feels how puny, how small, how 
mean is that creature called man.^^ 

As he spoke she had turned to him in wonder. 
He appeared to her in a new light. She had only 
known him as the handsome guide, with some- 
what of boldness and daring in his character. 
Now she was given an insight into the inner man, 
and in the kindling eye, and grand gestures, the 
form and heart of one worthy to command was 
made manifest. She saw what heretofore had 
escaped even her astuteness, that he was a grand 
type of manhood, worthy of respect and regard. 
What chance had made of this superior being, a 
simple mountain guide.^ How different he was 
from the simpering pets of society she had known 
as men, throughout all her young life. 

“It is so dangerous,^’ she said, half in awe, “and 
yet you must have climbed to the summit, often.’’ 

“Often,” he answered, becoming quite calm 
again, “but I am rugged, and what to others is a 
weary task, to me is as the ball-room dance to the 
city idler.” 

“I am afraid you intended that last bit of sarcasm 
for a slap at our friend Mr* Vosse.” She only 


1 6 A woman’s wish 

half suppressed a laugh. She threw a pebble 
into the pool, and they both watched the eddies 
which followed. ‘^Has no woman ever reached its 
cone.^^” she asked. 

“One,” he replied, his tone becoming grave, as 
they both looked again at the peak, which shone in 
the rays of the sun, from between the broken 
clouds below, beneath which the earth lay in 
shadow, leaving the glowing peak the one brilliant 
object. “One only, and a simple cross on the 
mountain side, marks the spot where she breathed 
her beautiful young life away.” 

“But she had reached the top.^^” 

“Yes, she and her lover. They set out without 
advice, and unaccompanied by a guide. By the 
most persistent effort they reached the cone, 
rested there for a time, and started to descend, 
when the cold and snow which often comes at that 
height, fell upon them. The frail girl grew faint, and 
chilled. Then the lover carried her, and did all 
that man could to reach a place of safety with his 
lovely burden. The hand of death was upon her, 
and ere they reached the spot where they had left 
their horses, he held in his arms the lifeless clay of 
the one being he adored on earth.” 


A woman’s wish 


17 


She looked at him sharply, saw the faraway look 
in his face, and the suspicion of a tear in his eye. 
There was a quick beating at her heart, and a feel- 
ing akin to pain. 

“It was — That man — Was it — 

“No/’ He understood her question, and was 
quick to deny the thought. “I had known them 
both, prior to that fatal trip.” 

“But with a stout guide, with a strong arm to 
buffet every contending evil,” she exclaimed excit- 
edly, her bosom heaving, and her face glowing. 
“With one who knows not defeat, and who would 
make a plaything of rock, chasm and storm, would 
it not be possible for a woman to climb to the 
cone and return in safety?” 

“Perhaps.” 

“Then I will venture,” she cried, rising to her 
feet, and turning her face, doubly beautiful in its 
glow of determination upon the calm young man. 
“I will scale the dizzy heights, and be the first 
woman to return to tell of the beauties of the cone 
of Gray’s peak. You shall be my guide and will 
show me safely there and back again.” 

His heart beat painfully and an uncontrollable 
desire came over him, to burst into a passion of 


i8 


A woman’s wish 


adoration, at the feet of this wilful woman. He 
did control himself, however, and only the expres- 
sion of his face told of the battle at his heart. She 
had thought of him, when speaking of the strong 
arm upon which she could depend. It was worth 
while living, to have inspired such confidence. 

“Your father would never consent.^’’ he replied, 
his tone coldness itself. 

“He must not know, and when we return, he 
will forgive me, and you as well. You will go.*^’^ 
“God forgive me, if aught should happen to you,” 
he cried, the words giving his consent. He knew 
it was wrong, but it was a temptation to have 
under his care, away from the rest of the world, this 
beautiful, perverse woman, who was fast winding 
herself about his heart, to nestle there in memory 
after she had left him to the solitude of his mount- 
ain home. After all why should there be danger. 

He had made of the mountain his plaything, why 
should he not make it bow to her, this beautiful 
woman so worthy of the love of any man.^^ 

She stepped to him with a quick impulse, and 
pressed his hand in girlish gratitude. A sudden 
impulse came to him to raise it to his lips, when 
there was a rustle in the willows, and he had just 


A woman's wish 


19 


time to drop the pretty fingers, when a voice broke 
in upon them, and a tall slender young man, with 
a drooping dark mustache, and black closely clipped 
hair, hardly blacker than the dark eyes over which 
the lids drooped slightly, stepped into the opening. 

“Oh, you’re here are you. Any luck, Miss Allen.? 
Had a great catch myself. Here, Forbes, just 
tote this basket of mine, will you.? It’s quite 
full.’^ He tossed his catch to the guide, and turned 
to the lady. He noted her heightened color, and 
elevated his brow slightly, the drooped lids show- 
ing a little more of the pupils than was usual. 
“Been having one of your disputes with Forbes, 
have you.? It don’t do to cross my lady, even in 
the manner of casting a hook.’^ 

“Don’t be a fool,’’ was the lady’s quick reply, 
as she gave the guide a glance full of meaning. 
“You have an inherent jealousy in your moral 
makeup, which is apt to embrace your friends in 
its influences.” 

“Well, you needn’t be nasty,” the dark young 
man snapped, as he turned, and followed the lady 
toward the open valley. 

Left to himself, the guide gathered up the fish 
and tackle left behind, and thoughtfully followed 


20 


A woman’s wish 


the others, wondering not a little, what was the 
secret of the power pretty Miss Allen had gained 
over him, to his own unrest. 


CHAPTER II. 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM. 

The sun rose in a ball of fire, throwing a purple 
tint upon the few clouds gathered about it, the sky 
being turned to a dun yellow hue, making the foot- 
hills and distant mountains look wierd in the half 
light of the dawning day. Nature had long ago 
roused itself from sleep, while man still clung to 
his bed of slumber, allowing primitive earth to 
share in the companionship of bird and beast. 

Not all of humanity was sleeping, for on the 
trail to the peak, two persons were already astir, 
making the most of the early hours of the day. 
The sun mounted higher, and the clouds and mists 
melted away at its touch, showing nature as it is 
only painted by the Great Master, in one of earth’s 
prettiest spots. As the day wore on, others began 
to bestir themselves, and faint curls of smoke 
wreathed themselves into fantastic shapes in the 
heights above the trees, from fires hidden beneath, 
21 


^'2 CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 

showing that the hnnter and the camper were about. 

A man and a woman, mounted upon a pair of 
mountain ponies kept steadily upon their way on the 
trail, and paid little attention to what the land- 
scape had to offer, for they were too busied with 
their own present motives. Miss Allen had held 
the guide to his promise and the result was that 
the two had started out from the cabin at the first 
break of day, making the most of the early hours 
so as to complete their toilsome journey before 
nightfall. The guide had given the horses their 
fodder before daylight, and then the two had 
mounted, and started on their trip alone, while 
the father was still asleep, little dreaming of the 
hazardous undertaking his daughter was bent upon 
in the company of an almost unknown mountain 
guide. 

The average young lady of society would have 
thought twice before so far offending the proprie- 
ties, but Miss Allen was not an average young lady, 
and had such confidence in her own ability to take 
care of herself that she had no fear for the under- 
taking above the terrors which might confront her 
from the mountain itself. She had read the hand- 
some guide well, and while others might condemn 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


^3 


her as careless in the extreme, she knew that with 
the man whom she knew was half in love with her, 
she was as safe as at her own fireside. 

Ever since she had started out upon that western 
jaunt with her father and would-be lover, she had 
been filled with a desire to distinguish herself in 
some way, and when the idea came to her of climb- 
ting the mountain before her male companions had 
taken the trip, she was resolved to attempt it at 
all hazards. That another had attempted it and 
been brought back a burden of lifeless clay, only 
gave the trip a stronger charm to this strange girl, 
and she could not be argued out of her determi- 
nation. 

Few men have ever been placed in the position 
of the guide on that particular occasion. Un- 
worthy as his position in life made him of the 
sweet being who had placed her life in his 
hands, he felt that he loved her with a love which 
only needed the faintest spark to kindle it into an 
all devouring flame. He knew the state of affairs, 
and had resolved that no matter what might hap- 
pen he would keep such watch over himself that 
he would not give way to his feelings 

^‘You are not a very lively guide this morning,” 


24 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


she said finally, in order to rouse him to a more 
talkative mood. 

“I beg your pardon,’’ was his answer, a trifle 
coldly, “but my promise did not include a contract 
to amuse as well as guide you.” 

“Oh, if you want to be ungentlemanly, I suppose 
I can keep myself company,” she said flashing her 
grand eyes upon him in a little burst of maidenly 
dignity. She was hurt to think that her well in- 
tended effort at conversation had been so rudely 
met, yet she half divined the cause. 

He flushed painfully at her retort, but had no 
answer ready at the moment, though he showed 
his contrition. She, womanlike saw that he was 
hurt, and paved the way to friendship again. 

“You were not so unkind yesterday,” she said, 
looking down as she rode, and flecking a dragon- 
fly from where it had rested upon her skirt, with 
her riding-whip. 

“Yesterday was — yesterday,” he replied, with 
a forced laugh, “and I was not in such a thoroughly 
commonplace mood at that time. Besides, I had 
not been subjected to certain remarks of your 
somewhat caustic friend, Mr. Vosse.” 

“What has Vosse been saying now.^” she ques- 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


25 


tioned, her eyes snapping and her teeth coming 
together as if their owner was prepared to launch 
into a disagreeable subject. 

“Only reminding me that he had much rather 
you did not spend so much of your time at the 
trout brook, with the guide.’* 

“He dared to say that! kxiii you — f” 

“Oh! he didn’t say it to me, or I fear I would 
have made it unpleasant for him. I overheard him 
rehearsing his grievance to your father. He sup- 
plemented it with the remark, that, as he hoped to 
one day call you by a nearer and dearer title than 
friend, he would much prefer that you were more 
choice in your company.” 

“And father. What was his answer 
“If I remember rightly, he laughed.” 

“Dear papa. He is apt to take things as a joke 
from Vosse, which he would resent from any one 
else. If that young man is not careful, he will 
succeed in turning my utter indifference to a most 
cordial hatred.” 

They were both silent after this. The lady was 
thrown into a state of unrest by the words of her 
companion, and was undecided in her own mind 
as to what she would say — what explanation she 


26 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


would give. She was aware that Forbes was 
troubled within himself in the suspicion that Vosse 
was more to her than an ordinary friend, and she 
confessed that such a state of things worried her. 
Not that she could have any future which would 
include her handsome companion, but she could 
not bear that he should think of her as having a 
tenderness for a man she liked so little as she did 
Mr. Vosse. She glanced at her companion 
askance, but his face betrayed no inner emotion, 
yet she knew he was waiting for her to speak. 

“I owe it to myself,” she said finally, “to disa- 
buse your mind of any idea it may have been im- 
pressed with, as a consequence of the words you 
overheard. Mr. Vosse is studying law with my 
father, and sometime ago he asked him if he might 
pay his addresses to me. I believed my father 
told the young man that he had his permission, but 
would not coerce me in the matter in the least. 
Mr. Vosse is quite wealthy, and what the world 
looks upon as a good catch. I have since given 
him no cause to suppose that he had a right to 
dictate as to my actions, and his espionage over 
me in any manner is as distasteful as it is uncalled 
for. When I make a selection, I hope I will 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


27 


have the good taste to choose a man possessed of 
a mind, so that I may look up to him. I always 
objected to looking down from a dizzy height. I 
hope you believe me.^’^ 

“It would be to doubt your good taste to do 
otherwise,” he answered simply. “I thank you for 
the confidence.” 

The answer hardly satisfied her. He was only 
a mountain guide; low born perhaps, but his 
manner pained her. Why was he so perfect a 
master of himself.^ or was it that he did not care.^ 
Of course they could never be anything to each 
other, but she would wish to go away feeling that 
she had left a tender memory of herself in the 
heart of the mountain rustic. She must try to 
draw him out in some other way. 

“How did you happen to bury yourself in these 
mountains.^” she asked abruptly. 

He was startled at the question, which had 
broken into another train of thought, and he did 
not answer at once. 

“Perhaps I was born and raised here,” he said 
evasively. 

“You are not as confidential as I have been,” 
she said a little nettled. 


28 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


“Which is a poor return for your kindness in the 
same instance/’ he said, smiling slightly. “Well, 
I will admit that I am not indigenous to the soil. 
The city did not agree with me, and I took up this 
mode of life as a pleasant way to bury myself from 
the world.” 

“A love affair.^”’ she questioned, her heart flutter- 
ing strangely. 

“No — oh, no. The old story of a fortune 
squandered among friends who cut the prodigal the 
moment he became a beggar.” 

“Ah!” The expression was almost one of relief. 

“I am very sorry. I knew you had been accus- 
tomed to move among men.” 

“You need not be sorry that I have parted from 
that sham world, of selfish men and heartless 
women. I am happier here, where nature is the 
staunch friend of all who can read her, and I have 
found her heart, and am taken to her bosom. I 
have no regrets.” 

“But you are too well read, too superior to 
many, to so bury yourself from society. May 
there not be some woman in the world who is 
different from the rest, and who would make the 
world appear different to you.^” 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


29 


She had hardly intended the question and was 
angry with herself as soon as it was spoken. He 
looked at her for a moment, and though his eyes 
shone, his voice was strangely quiet. 

“Perhaps,” he said, “but I could never ask her 
to share my lot. My ideal is too far above any- 
thing I can ever hope to attain. Wealth is neces- 
sary to happiness in the world of men and women, 
and that I can never hope to secure. You say 
you could never look down. I could never look 
up.” 

The beautiful women could not understand her- 
self. There seemed to be some power placing 
words into her mouth that she would have pre- 
ferred to have remained unspoken. 

“‘He either fears his fate too much, 

Or his desert is small, 

Who fears to put it to the touch, 

To win or loose it all.’” 

The quotation came under her breath, but he 
heard it, and a trembling seized upon him. At 
last he had been moved, and there was danger that 
he might forget himself. She saw that he was 
fired, and her face flushed rosy red. She was a 
little frightened, but there was a strange sweetness 


30 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


in the feeling which swept over her as she lowered 
her eyes and turned giddy as she felt his passion. 

He was the more sensible of the two, and had 
just presence of mind enough to touch the pony 
with his whip, and start on at a gallop, away from 
the temptation. 

‘‘We are loitering,” he cried, “and the sun is 
mounting high.” 

She urged her pony after him, and an added 
admiration came to her for the man who was so 
perfect a master of himself. 

The former thread of conversation was not re- 
sumed. They kept to their journey along the trail, 
through some of the most beautiful wild scenery 
of the world, and finally camped for a light noon- 
day lunch, at a point where they must abandon 
their ponies, and take the trail without horses, for 
from that point the way was toilsome, and must 
be made on foot. She was eager now for the 
ascent to commence, for a spark of the old fire was 
in her veins, and she longed to tempt nature, and 
ascend to the peak which now frowned upon them 
from above. The ascent was awful. They were 
at the verge of vegetation, and only a few stunted 
pine trees grew from among the rocks, about which 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


31 


there was a thin growth of grass and moss. Soon 
these too disappeared, and the forbidding and sharp 
edged rocks alone responded to their footsteps. 

There were descents down which he was obliged 
to lower his fair charge with a rope, and often his 
strong arm was called upon to shield her from a 
possible slip down some yawning precipice. They 
were obliged to crawl beneath huge overhanging 
boulders, at the edge of steep declivities, they 
skirted deep ravines, and clambered over boulders, 
polished by the action of the weather. Many times 
they were obliged to stop to rest, for in spite of 
her bravery the limbs of the girl almost refused to 
support her. Several times she had slipped, and 
his arm had caught her, while a few loose stones 
rattled from her small feet to the depths below, 
awakening resounding echoes. 

Finally they rested at the edge of a little plateau, 
and he stood aloof and gazed at the cone above, 
while she half reclined against a jutting rock. Be- 
fore them arose a vertical wall, some twelve feet 
in height. 

“Our hardest trial is before us,” he explained 
simply. “This is what is known as Hell chasm, 
and it often turns back the explorers who would 
venture to the top.” 


32 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


“We will not turn back,” she said simply. 

“Let me explain. Between this plateau and 
that cliff, is a yawning chasm hundreds of feet 
deep. How deep no one knows. The wall at the 
other side is higher, yet must be reached Yonder 
you will see a V-shaped trough, its base resting 
upon this side, its top upon the other. It has 
cleats nailed within it, and in that trough one must 
crawl to the other side. Beyond that, the cone 
will rise with no more precipices, and only the 
roughness of the way to make it tedious. Will 
you come and look at it?” 

She obeyed him as he led her to the very edge, 
from which she recoiled, it had come upon her so 
suddenly. She looked at the trough, apparently 
so slight, and turned away her head. She went 
nearer to it, assuming a boldness, then she turned 
to him, terrified at last. 

“I could never scale it alone,” she said appeal- 
ingly. 

“Shall we go back?” 

“No! No! I will reach the top. Is there no 
way?” 

“Sometimes, with the timid men, I climb up 
first, and then draw them up with a rope. If you 
wish — 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


33 


“Oh! not that way. That would be more terri- 
ble still. If I only had you near me; but to be 
alone all by myself over that awful chasm. I 
would faint I know. Could — could you not take 
me with you?” 

He was thoughtful for a moment. 

“If you would close your eyes, and cling to me, I 
think I could carry you safely. Do you wish to 
try?” 

“Any way you say, only don’t ask me to go up 
alone.” 

He led her to the base of the trough, and leaned 
into it with his feet at the first cleats. She hesi- 
tated but a moment, and he did not see the wave 
of color, or the tender light in her eyes as she 
passed her arms tightly about his shoulders from 
behind, and clasped him close. She shut her eyes, 
and felt him slowly mounting, then before she was 
aware of it, she felt him spring lightly erect, and 
she was on the ledge above. She was all of a 
tremble, partly from fright, and partly from her 
own emotions, for the situation was a rather novel 
one for a young woman who almost fancies herself 
in love with a young man. He never appeared to 
notice that there was anything unusual about the 


34 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


circumstance, and she inwardly thanked him for it. 
There was another slight rest, and then with little 
more trouble, they mounted the immense cone 
itself. 

Like the majority of the dwellers on the plains. 
Miss Allen had been somewhat troubled with her 
respiration during the ascent, on account of the 
relation of the atmospheric pressure, and just as 
she was helped to the summit of the peak, she was 
taken with a bleeding from the nostrils, which 
happily did not last long. She had experienced 
the same thing once before at the foot-hills, and it 
did not frighten her. This last inconvenience over, 
the brave young lady was amply repaid for her 
toilsome journey, for aside from the satisfaction 
she felt at having surmounted great difficulties, 
the sight was a grand one, as her companion had 
once described it to her. 

At the topmost height of the mass of tumbled 
and broken rock which composed the cone, the 
hand of man had piled a little pyramid, in which 
was imbedded a stout pole, at the top of which a 
weather beaten flag fluttered. Miss Allen sprung 
upon this pyramid, which overlooked the steepest 
side of the cdne, and grasping the pole in her hand, 


CHASMS BETWEEN THEM 


35 


gazed off into space, for the moment forgetting 
her companion, who was gazing upon her with all 
his eyes. A stiff breeze was blowing, and she had 
thrown aside her cap, her rich locks which had be- 
come loosened with the ascent, tossing about the 
white neck, and streaming behind her. The same 
wind drew her hunting skirt about her, and in her 
natural graceful pose she was a statue^ of beauty. 
A few low clouds passed beneath them and parted 
against the mountain side. 

“Oh, if one could only live here always,’’ she 
cried, beside herself. 

“But one would have so few callers,” he ventured, 
laughingly. 

.“Perhaps one would not want them,” she sighed, 
giving him a roguish glance. She had quite 
recovered her spirits, and did not feel any traces 
of her former fatigue. Pie left her to her own 
thoughts for a sufficient length of time, and then 
ventured to recall her from dreamland. 

“We have time and material for a little lunch 
before we start upon our return trip.” 


CHAPTER III. 


LOVE FINDS A WAY. 

Before that lunch was finished a considerable 
time elapsed'. The young man felt that the present 
was perhaps the last opportunity he would ever 
have of enjoying the society of the girl he had 
placed upon the pedestal of his ideal, and he made 
the most of it. High above the rest of the world 
he could forget for the time being that they were 
not apart and distinct from the rest of creation, 
and enjoy her society without a thought of what 
others might think. He knew that from an educa- 
tional standpoint he was the equal of the being he 
adored, but never for one moment did he waver 
from the course of action he had mapped out for 
himself. He was respectful and solicitous, nothing 
more. He answered her interrogations, and volun- 
teered much information in regard to the mountain 
they had successfully climbed, and so well did he 
succeed in his quiet way of placing them both at 
36 


LOVE FINDS A WAY 


37 


ease, that she felt as much at home with him as if 
she was in the company of one of her own sex. 
He noticed with some alarm that the mountain 
mists had gathered thickly about them, and that 
the sun was obscured suddenly by an envelope of 
thick cloud. He made immediate preparations for 
their return to the foothills, becoming aware also 
that a stiff cold breeze had sprung up, and was 
whirling the mists about the bleak top of the cone. 

She noticed his evident haste but thought little 
of it. Her mind was too filled with exultation over 
the feat she had accomplished to care for small 
matters. 

“Is it growing late.?” she queried, as they started 
to retrace their steps. 

“Rather,” was the quiet answer, in which there 
was no tone of alarm. “Are you chilly.?” 

“Not in the least. I am warmly clothed. Is it 
not a rather sudden coolness for this time of the 
year?” 

“No. These mountain heights are often visited 
by quick changes, owing to the different currents. 
Are you quiet strong? Quite recovered from your 
fatigue ?” 

“Yes. I don’t know when I have enjoyed a lunch 


38 


LOVE FINDS A WAY 


SO much as I did the one we have just finished 
This climbing, together with the bracing air 
gives one a ravenous appetite. It has made me 
fitted to meet almost any trial.” 

He looked up at the ominous mists again, and 
prayed to himself that such was the case. Though 
he did not communicate his fears to his companion, 
he feared that one of those early autumn snow 
storms was upon them. To combat one of them 
on the mountain was a wearisome task for a man; 
how much more so for a woman. Perhaps it would 
not break until they were at a lower point, and 
then they would be safe. He would not alarm ner 
by communicating to her his fears. Afterwards 
he would tell her of the danger they had missed. 

They came to the trough over the gulch, and 
again he was compelled to carry her to the lower 
side, as he had carried her before. Perhaps he 
held her for an instant as he placed her upon her 
feet again, but if she noticed it, there was nothing 
but a heightened color to tell that she had. Then 
the toilsome journey commenced. A few feathery 
flakes of snow wavered down, and one of them 
alighted caressingly upon the dark hair of the girl. 


LOVE FINDS A WAY 


39 


She saw them, and was on the alert in an instant. 
She remembered the story he had told her the day 
before. She looked at him a little reproachfully, 
and saw the set paleness of his features. 

“Press on as rapidly as you wish,” she said firmly, 
like the brave girl she was, “I can keep up.” 

“You are a brave little woman,” he cried, roused 
by her superior force. “Come on then, we will 
face it together. Lean on me whenever you feel 
wearied, for I have strength enough for both.” 

She looked at this grand specimen of manhood, 
who looked powerful enough to battle against fate 
itself, and she told herself that never had woman 
a stronger champion. It was a dangerous thought 
for the safety of her heart. They made the best 
speed possible, but the storm broke, and the snow 
covered them with its falling flakes, and drifted 
so fast that it hid the marks of the trail. Had he 
not known it well they must have lost it, and been 
doomed to wander about aimlessly until they were 
buried beneath the accumulating snows, until a 
stupor should overcome them. The cold increased, 
and he noticed that she shivered. He never spoke 
a word but without stopping, and in spite of her 
resistance whipped off his own jacket, and had it 


40 


LOVE FINDS A WAY 


around her. Her feet became numbed, and often 
slipped, in perilous places, but the strong arm was 
ever present to support her. They kept up the 
same speed, and the brave woman would not admit 
that she was ready to drop from fatigue, but met 
his agonized and questioning look with a wan smile 
of reassurance. It could not continue forever; 
womanhood could not stand the strain, and after 
they had descended the edge of a more than usually 
precipitous descent, the brave girl tottered, and 
fell almost into his arms. 

There was no time for comment. Words were 
useless, and the man caught up the tired burden, 
and sped on, his teeth tightly clenched, and the fire 
of resolution in his eyes. The close contact of his 
arms, and the warmth of his body restored her 
shortly, and she demurred. He either did not, or 
would not notice her, but clasped her only the more 
closely, and kept up the descent with hardly less 
speed than before. It seemed impossible that man 
could be possessed of strength enough to keep up 
with the weight and under the strain to which 
this one was put, yet he was not the less sure footed, 
and nerved himself to the effort of his life. They 
passed the most dangerous spots and then came to a 


LOVE FINDS A WAY 


41 


gentle declivity at the end of which could be dimly 
discerned the first of the small fir trees that showed 
they had arrived near the verdure line. Here he 
wavered for a moment, and staggered a few steps. 
She made an effort as if she would release herself 
from his embrace; then he nerved himself to the 
task before him and though great beads of perspira- 
tion stood out upon his forehead, he struggled on 
with his lovely burden. The moments seemed like 
hours to him. It seemed as though he must not 
fail when so near a place of comparative safety, 
but the effort was killing. They passed the first 
straggling fir trees, and on toward the haven of 
shelter afforded by the thicker growth beneath, 
when suddenly, and without warning the stout 
frame gave way with the fearful strain, and he 
sank upon one knee. He struggled for a moment 
with himself to rise again, but the tired limbs re- 
fused to obey the willing heart, and with a groan 
of despair, his arms loosed themselves from about 
the girl, and he sank back in the snow, unconscious. 

Placed in the position in which Miss Allen found 
herself, she might have been pardoned if she had 
given way to her feelings. But this brave girl was 
not like the majority of her sex. She regained her 


f 


42 LOVE FINDS A WAY 

feet the moment the guide had lost strength and 
consciousness, and her fertile mind was at work 
in an instant. She could see dimly through the 
whirling flakes, the thick growth of pine trees, to 
which she might easily hope to make her way 
unaided, and thus be safe from the storm until a 
search party had found her, but the idea never for 
a moment occurred to her. She would never leave 
her noble preserver alone to his fate. She looked 
upon him as he lay white, handsome, and silent, 
the flakes covering him silently but swiftly in that 
noiseless mantle of white, and a great wave of pos- 
session and protection came over her. As the 
tigress fights for her young, so this woman, like 
her sex always when they feel a dependence of the 
feeble upon them, was ready to battle for that 
man. 

She began immediately trying to arouse him, rais- 
ing him from the snow, slapping and beating him 
about the body, and rubbing his face and neck with 
no gentle hand. She knew he must be aroused if 
possible, or the killing stupor would have him in 
its grip. Finding that her exertions did not restore 
him to consciousness, she seized him below the 
arms, and with all her strength dragged him down 


LOVE FINDS A WAY 


43 


the cold white mountain side. It taxed her power 
to the utmost, but she resolved that she would 
accomplish her object, or die with him. She never 
thought of love. There was no time for such 
thoughts. She dragged him for a little way, then 
stopped to rest, while she tried to beat him into 
sensibility with her small hands, then she had him 
up again, and dragged him on. At last, her 
strength was almost gone, she had the once strong 
man safe under the low thick boughs of a spreading 
pine, and had stretched him upon the soft bed of dry 
fallen needles, aromatic with the perfume of the 
resins. Here it was sheltered and warm, and her 
continued efforts finally roused him to conscious- 
ness. 

Gradually beneath her slaps he became aware of 
his surroundings, and made an effort to rise. 

‘‘You needn’t quite beat me to death, he said 
in a weak voice, attempting to joke. It was a 
poor attempt however, and had a queer effect, for 
now that he was saved, this brave girl became the 
woman, and burst into a flood of tears, relieving 
her pent-up feelings to her heart’s content. 

Had she now only known it, it was the best 
thing she could have done, for he roused himself 


44 


LOVE FINDS A WAY 


by an effort. He could not bear to see her weep. 
It unmanned him more than anything else had 
done. He stretched himself, arose and beat his 
arms across his chest, and stamped his feet until 
his blood circulated again freely, and then was 
ready for anything. Your mountain man is easily 
recuperated. She sobbed on, and he tried to 
comfort her. 

‘‘Pray don’t cry,” he said. “It is all over now, 
and we are safe. Don’t you know that your tears 
hurt me more than if I was lying out there alone 
in the snow, from where you must have dragged 
me. I remember falling. You have saved 
my life, do not make it miserable by weeping.” 

“You saved my life,” she sobbed. “I must cry, 
and have it over. I am crying because I am happy. 
I thought you — we would be killed with the cold.” 

“No, thank Heaven, not that,” he cried fer- 
vently. “Fate did not have that in store for us. 
I wonder that you did not leave me there, and save 
yourself.” 

“Leave you there.?” she cried, hurt at his words, 
her tears drying at once. 

“It would be only one common man, more or 
less,” he said a little bitterly. “I would not have 


LOVE FINDS A WAY 


45 


been missed, while your loss would have wrecked 
a home. It is different.’’ 

“As long as you live, Hector Forbes, never let 
such a thought pass from your lips. You are not 
a common man. Your loss would have wrecked a 
home. Not a home that now is perhaps, but the 
home that some day you will adorn, as one of the 
noble men of this modern age.” 

As she spoke, there was that in her manner 
which awoke all the tenderness of his great nature. 
He saw that she was touched. In that moment 
he saw opened before him, a possibility of the love 
of this beautiful woman, and his eyes swam with 
the vision. He gasped for breath, and took a 
step toward her. Her face turned rosy red, for 
she read his eyes, and she panted as she feared, 
but not with an unpleasant fear, the denoeu7nent of 
her rash speech. His weakness was but for the 
moment, for he checked himself, and turning 
away his head, looked out into the storm. 

“Perhaps you are right,” he said in a voice husky 
with his pent-up feelings. Then he roused him- 
self. “Come. We can proceed in comparative 
safety now, and our horses are tethered not far 
from here.” 


46 


LOVE FINDS A WAY 


She did not answer, but stripped off the jacket 
he had placed about her shoulders, and offered it 
to him. He would have refused it, but she insisted 
that she was not cold, and he wore it for the rest 
of the way home. It was not long before they 
met her father and the people at the hut looking 
for them. 

Their stay in the mountains after that was brief. 
The father insisted that he did not care to climb 
the peak, and they made preparations to return 
to Denver the following day. He took occasion to 
thank the guide warmly for the manner in which 
he had cared for what he termed his “wilful little 
girl,’^ and there was something in the hearty clasp 
of his hand that went at once to the heart of 
Hector Forbes, and made him feel like a better 
man. There are men with whom to shake hands, 
is like a draught of the fabled elixir. Vosse Vv^as 
of course sarcastic, but then he had been given a 
rating by his fiancee in prospect, and that was to 
be expected. Besides he was insanely jealous of 
the handsome guide, and was glad when they 
mounted their horses, to ride to the railway station 
some miles away. 

Forbes had been asked to ride with them, but 


LOVE FINDS A WAY 


47 


he preferred to remain behind. He was moody 
and unlike himself that day. Miss Allen held back 
as the party rode slowly away, for a few words 
with her preserver. She reached down her hand 
to him at parting, and he looked up at her as if he 
would photograph her face upon his memory. She 
was moved as she never had thought a man could 
move her. 

“We part now,^^ she said, “but come what may, 
I shall never forget you, or the debt I owe you. 
I wish you could believe that. I wish you would 
unbend your proud spirit, and know that I am all 
kindness to you, and that I shall always pray for 
your welfare.” 

He took her little hand, and what was almost a 
sob came to his lips. 

“Our paths lie far apart,” he said hoarsely. 
“Mine on the rugged steeps of Gray’s peak, yours 
in the bright and merry world, surrounded by 
those you love, and love you. Perhaps some day 
the chasms will claim me, while some happy man 
sues for your love, and not in vain — ” 

“Never,” she cried, not thinking, then she bent 
hurriedly. “Make for yourself a future. You can. 
Then if you remember me, come and seek me out. 

4 


48 


LOVE FINDS A WAY 


and you will find me ready to be won. No — no — 
Do not answer. You were so proud I had to speak. 
You are too noble to take advantage of an admis- 
sion made for your good — for the good of both.” 

She pressed his hand for a moment, then galloped 
away, turning for an instant to throw back at him 
one of the small gloves she wore, then she was lost 
to sight in the waving brush of the bend of the 
hill, and he was left alone with the little glove in 
his hand, and his own thoughts. He kissed it 
reverently, and her words on the mountain came 
to him like a soft melody. “Your loss would have 
wrecked a home. Not a home that is, but the 
home that some day you will adorn, as one of the 
noble men of this modern age.’ 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE STORY OF A CRIME. 

Almost a year has elapsed, and the scene shifts. 
No more do towering peaks and undulating hills 
greet the eye, nor is the ear quickened b}^ the 
music of the mountain-brook or torrent. The 
scene changes to a city and the odor of unkempt 
nature is forgotten. A city, not nestling upon the 
slopes of foothills, nor in the shadow of distant 
rocks, for as far as the eye can reach about, one 
can see nothing but spreading fields, waving like a 
pulsating sea with acres upon acres of standing 
grain. The beautiful city nestles softly upon either 
bank of the Father of Waters, where the roar of 
the Falls of St. Anthony mingles with the dizzy 
buzz of the factories, the wheels of which its water 
turns. 

Beautiful Minneapolis, rushing on to greatness 
but a few miles from the poetic falls whose sylvan 
loveliness the greatest American poet has woven 
into a romance of verse, which will cause it to live 
49 


50 


THE STORY OF A CRIME 


in song long after its waters have ceased to flow. 
Who that has seen you in your beauty will ever 
forget your broad streets, bordered with the cool 
green shade of countless trees, your beautiful 
residences, and your tone of refinement and luxury ? 

It was during the Republican national conven- 
tion of 1892, and the city was filled to overflowing 
with visitors, gathered to see a chapter in the 
making of a president. Everything was noise and 
excitement. The strangers outnumbered the 
residents, and with others came the legions of 
footpads and criminals. 

In one of the most stately mansions on a prin- 
cipal residence street, surrounded by ample 
grounds, and vine hung verandas, lived the family 
of Emery Allen, the leading attorney of the city. 
He was a busy man, but found time to gather 
around himself and little family all the comforts 
of a truly modern home. He was hospitable to a 
degree, and his large house was almost always 
filled with relatives and other invited company. The 
family was gathered at the breakfast table, and 
the news of the day was being discussed as it in- 
variably was at that time. The attorney sat at 
the head of the table, about which was seated his 


THE STORY OF A CRIME 


SI 


daughter, his pupil, Mr. Vosse, Charles and Donald 
Tremaine, two cousins of the family from the east, 
young men with fortunes in prospect, Blanche 
Bearing and Mabel Laclaire, two academy friends 
of Miss Allen, Rachel Allen, a maiden sister of the 
attorney, and Lola Riche, a companion of the 
young lady of the house, who had lived with them 
for the past two years. 

It was a merry breakfast party, for in that house 
every one was merry under the influence of the 
attorney himself, who enjoyed hilarity, and could 
laugh at a good joke with the best of them. 

‘^Here we are,” said Vosse, looking up from the 
paper he had been reading. ‘^Some of our visitors 
of the criminal order have been at it again. This 
time the efficient police force has nipped the 
criminal in the bud, so to speak.” 

“Read it out,” cried Miss Bearing. “You know 
we only have one paper, and of course you have 
that.” 

“That’s because he gets up first,” volunteered 
Donald, “and he uses the right of possession, until 
we can establish adverse claims. That’s what he 
learns in law.” 

“If you people will keep quiet for a few moments, 


52 


THE STORY OF A CRIME 


I am perfectly willing to read to you/’ said Vosse 
rather testily. 

“^At least one of the thugs who have visited our 
city for the purpose of plunder and murder,’” he 
read, “‘has had his career of crime suddenly cut 
short, thanks to the vigilance of our efficient chief 
of police, and Patrolman Rafferty. While the 
latter was on the alert late last night, he discov- 
ered a man who had fallen to the walk on Second 
avenue. Thinking it was a case of drunkenness, 
the officer raised the man, and found that he was 
bleeding freely from a wound on the head, and the 
cheek. After a little effort, the man was restored 
sufficiently to speak for himself, and told his story, 
after the flow of blood had been stopped. ’ 

“‘He proved to be Thomas H. Dennison, a well 
known man about town, and he insisted with some 
excitement that he had been robbed of a wallet 
containing $9,500, by a man who had struck him 
upon the face with his fist, and then felled him with 
a blow from a heavy cane. Dennison fully de- 
scribed the pocket-book, and the man, and the 
detectives were assigned to the case at once. 
Thanks to their untiring zeal, the robber was ap- 
prehended just as he was registering at the office 
of the St. James hotel.’ 


THE STORY OF A CRIME 


S3 


was taken to the station, feigning surprise 
at his arrest, and when an officer was about to 
search him, he forthwith felled him with a blow of 
his brutal and ponderous fist. He was held by 
two officers, and when searched by the jailer, the 
identical pocket-book was taken from his inner vest 
pocket. It was found to have the exact amount 
in bills lost by Dennison. He still carried the 
cane with which the blow was struck, and there is 
not the least question as to his guilt, he being 
caught red handed, as it were.’” 

“Tried, sentenced and hung already, by the 
press,” said the attorney, with a slight sneer. 

“Why he must be guilty, brother,” said the 
spinster, reproachfully. “He nearly killed the 
poor dear man,” 

“^The prisoner absolutely refuses to give his 
name, and insists in claiming that the money is 
his, and that he had been set upon by thieves, two 
in number, both of whom he had felled to the 
ground, and then made his escape. He is a huge 
burly ruffian, with a face that might be handsome 
but for the hardened expression of the features, 
brought there by an undoubted long career of 
crime. The detectives recognize in the man an 


54 


THE STORY OF A CRIME 


old offender who has been puzzling the police of 
the country for some time, and he will be made an 
example of. His hearing will occur to-day, when 
he will undoubtedly be held to the grand jury.’^^ 

“Of course,” grunted the attorney, “a foregone 
conclusion. Some boy engaged as a reporter by 
the daily newspaper has arrogated to himself the 
right to try and to condemn a human being, be- 
fore he has had a trial. It is a pity editors, who 
are supposed to have brains, will insist upon hiring 
boys to write matter which older and wiser men 
are supposed to read. The youth of the country 
instructing mature manhood.” 

“Why papa, don’t you think the young man is 
guilty.^” asked Eunice. 

“That’s just the point exactly,” replied Mr. 
Allen, turning in a kindly way to his daughter. 
“We are too apt to pass judgment without thought. 
Crime is a serious thing, and man has no right to 
think upon such matters. There are no two ways 
about it. There is guilt and innocence. The law 
should never guess. It intends to be sure, and the 
public should await the law’s decision. The public 
supports the law, why can it not leave all these 
things in the law’s hands.?” 


THE STORY OF A CRIME 


55 


“But is the law always correct?” asked Miss 
Riche, in the most supreme innocence. 

“My dear child,” interrupted Vosse with a curl 
of the lip, “of course it is. What a silly question.” 

“Not so silly either,” said the attorney. “When 
you have been in the profession as long as I have, 
you will almost be ashamed of the vocation you 
follow for that very reason. It is not the men who 
follow it who make it bad, but the men who meet 
every once in so often at a state capitol, and make 
a set of laws, each one of which contradicts an- 
other one in some way or another. They know 
less about law than the poorest informed here, and 
yet laws they have made govern the destinies of 
men. It is almost absurd.” 

“I am astonished at you, Mr. Allen,” said Miss 
Laclaire. “How can you talk so about your pro- 
fession. My brother is a lawyer too.” 

“I must admit that I am talking out of school, 
but this is supposed to be a little cabinet council, 
and this must be a cabinet secret. Don’t say I 
said so.” 

The ladies all protested they would not breathe 
a word of it to a living soul. 

“Papa doesn’t care in the least,” laughed Eu- 


56 


THE STORY OF A CRIME 


nice. “He talks that way to the other lawyers in 
the city, for I have heard him. Of course it is 
accepted from him, but if some of the younger ones 
should advance such opinions, they would never 
reach practice.” 

“Mr. Vosse, for instance,” cried Blanche, mis- 
chievously, and that gentleman squirmed, and 
showed his teeth in a wicked way, although he 
smiled pleasantly. 

“Here is a picture of the double-dyed villain,” he 
said tossing the paper to the ladies across the table. 
“The newspaper artist has got in his work.” 

The girls scanned the rough drawing with greedy 
eyes. It looked like almost any man of the middle 
classes, and bore an undoubtedly villainous ex- 
pression. They all pronounced him horrid, and 
hoped he would be locked up forever. 

“For my part,” said Donald, “I don’t take much 
stock in those newspaper pictures. I remember 
that our paper produced a likeness of a new bishop 
who had been called to our city, who was noted for 
his kindly disposition, and love for children. The 
paper made him look like a brigand with a thou- 
sand crimes and without a single virtue.” 

“I think they make some very clever pictures,” 


THE STORY OF A CRIME 


57 


said Blanche. “You are always saying something 
unkind of somebody. You never have a good word 
for a soul on earth.” 

“Oh, if that’s your opinion, you’re welcome to 
it,” cried the young man. 

“Why do you treat Donald so cruelly.^” asked 
Eunice. “You hurt him to the heart.” 

“They’re always quarreling,” said the maiden 
aunt. “I am sure I can’t see why it is that young 
people who are engaged always appear to be ene- 
mies. Now if I had ever had a young man fast, I 
would have held him and not risked it.” 

“That’s a fib, aunty,” cried Eunice. “Don’t 
you believe her boys and girls. She was a beauty 
and the only reason she did not marry, was because 
she positively could not choose from among so 
many.” 

The aunt blushed a little, and a tender light 
came to her eyes as she looked upon her niece. 

“Is that the reason you do not make a choice, 
my niece .^” she asked lovingly. 

This was becoming rather personal forVosse, and 
he excuesd himself hurriedly, and left the room. 
The others lingered for a few moments, and then 
repaired to the verandas where the morning sun 


58 


THE STORY OF A CRIME 


was playing hide and seek through the leaves of 
the overhanging elms. Blanche disappeared to 
find her lover and make peace with him again, a 
programme which was carried out so repeatedly 
each day as to become monotonous to the others. 

The carriage drove to the horse block, and the 
attorney prepared to attend to his down town busi- 
ness. They were all gathered in front of the house 
but the missing couple, when Mr. Allen stood pul- 
ling on his gloves preparatory to his departure. 

“Anyone going down town.^^’’ he asked. 

“Vosse and myself only half fill the carriage. 
Eunice can’t take you all down in her phaeton.” 

“I think I will go,” said Tremaine, in spite of an 
appealing glance from Miss Laclaire. “I am inter- 
ested in that robbery case, and want to see the 
man. Some way, I am half inclined to think there 
is more to it than appears on the surface.” 

“Jump in then. Municipal court will be open 
for business at nine o’clock, and it is nearly that 
now.” 

The carriage whirled away, with a waving of 
hands. 

“Come on girls, ”cried Eunice. “Now that the 
men are gone, let’s have a set at tennis.” 


THE STORY OF A CRIME 


59 


‘^Donald and Blanche have all the best of us,” 
ventured Lola. ‘‘They are two lovers already.” 

And there was a general laugh as the couple re- 
ferred to was seen in earnest conversation in a 
shady part of the walk. 


CHAPTER V. 


YET IT IS THE LAW. 

Meantime the cause of all this talk and news- 
paper notoriety, who had proved a boon to the po- 
lice reporter in furnishing a choice morsel to dish 
up for breakfast-table reading, had been lying be- 
hind iron bars in an odoriferous celL Not but what 
the jail itself was clean. The municipal authori- 
ties saw to that, but the occupants of the adjoin- 
ing cages had brought in with them the odors pe- 
culiar to themselves, and they scented up the 
gloomy room with an odor altogether unpleasant 
to the nostrils of a man who was accustomed to the 
perfumes common to the higher walks of life. He 
did not sleep. The man of finer senses is not prone 
to drop off into a doze in strange places at once, 
and in such surroundings sleep is a stranger to him. 

A meager breakfast had been offered him, which 
he had refused, It would require the keenest hun- 
ger to induce a man who was not used to the fet- 
60 


YET IT IS THE LAW 


6l 


ters of the law to partake of the finest bill of fare, 
much less the plain food offered, which to others 
who had passed the night in duress, was like a gift 
from the gods. But then they had not tasted 
food perhaps for the past day or more, which ex- 
plained the hungry manner in which they snatched 
at their tin plates and cups. 

That ordeal over, he was marched with a long 
line of indiscriminate criminals of both sexes 
through a long passageway, and up a flight of stairs 
to a dingy, badly ventilated court-room, lighted by 
a single window which opened against a dead wall, 
and a dirty skylight. This was the municipal court- 
room where justice was meeted out by the officer 
of the people to those who were unfort- 
unate enough to wander within the clutch of a 
law, so well intended, and so wrongfully executed. 
But such a remark is anticipation. There is 
enough in the future to prove in itself the assertion 
in the case of the man who was especially watched 
over by an officer. He was the choice piece of 
bric-a-brac in that great collection, and upon him 
every eye was turned as he entered the room. 

Several members of a gang of thugs and pick- 
pockets, gathered at the outer edge of the room 


62 


YET IT IS THE LAW 


were there for the purpose of furnishing bail to 
some of their number within the toils. They 
looked at him hard, and smiled to each other. 

No one could tell what that smile meant. Per- 
haps they recognized him. Perhaps they smiled at 
the thought that they knew he was not one of their 
kind. He seated himself by the side of the officer, 
who still watched him narrowly, and waited. He 
was not the first to be arraigned, for the judge 
wished to get rid of the rank and file, before he 
took possession of the choice morsel. 

As he looks up for the first time, the face is fa- 
miliar, in spite of the strong lines of care that 
have come so suddenly to the handsome features. 
They are the same golden locks, the gray eyes, 
now raised toward the judge behind the elevated 
desk, the strong features, the well knit frame, the 
broad chest, the firm mouth of the mountain guide 
who had showed himself the hero in that perilous 
ascent to Gray’s peak. What a descent was here. 
From the hero to the criminal. From the manly 
protector of the innocent girl, to the prison cell of 
the midnight robber and assassin. What chain 
of circumstances could have worked this metamor- 
phosis ? 


YET IT IS THE LAW 


63 


The officers had lined up a long row of men of 
every description in front of the desk, and one 
after the other they were questioned as to their 
plea. They were the “plain drunks.” Those who 
pleaded guilty were let off with five dollar fines, 
while those who gave the opposite plea were allowed 
to say a few words for themselves, and then were 
given double the fines of the others for their tem- 
erity in daring to dispute an officer. Not but what 
many of them deserved it, but certainly there must 
have been some cases where the officer might have 
been mistaken when he made the arrest. An officer 
is not infallible. A wife beater pleaded guilty and 
was given a ten dollar fine. A young man who had 
knocked down a well-dressed villain for insulting 
his sweetheart on the street was fined fifty dollars. 
So it went until all had been disposed of with 
one exception. 

Twp men had been caught red handed in a 
swindling scheme against a countryman. They 
had secured some money from him, and it was ap- 
parent that they were professional confidence men. 
They took advantage of the right they had to wave 
examination, and they were held to the grand jury. 
The three friends at the back of the room before 


6 


64 


yet it is the law 


mentioned had secured bail for them, and they de- 
parted from the court-room. There were two wit- 
nesses, the victim and a companion, but as the 
j^rand jury would not meet for a couple of months, 
they could not afford to wait until the trial should 
take place. They must hasten to their families in 
Dakota. The city attorney could not hold them, 
and as they were the only witnesses, it was 
quite certain that the men would escape 
their just punishment, as the grand jury 
would have no others. It is the law. 

“Case of the State versus John Doe,’^ called the 
clerk in a monotonous voice. 

The handsome man with the golden hair stood 
before the court. The complaint was read. 

“Do you still refuse to give your true name.^^” 
asked the judge. 

“The name you have given me will suffice,” was 
the answer. “I do not care to bring this disgrace 
upon those who have loved me.” 

“What is your answer to the charge.^” asked the 
court. “Are you guilty or not guilty.?” 

“It is unnecessary for me to reiterate that I am 
innocent,” was the dignified answer, and the young 
man folded his arms as if in saying that, all had 
been said. 


YET IT IS THE LAW 


65 


The city attorney’s assistant, who invariably 
took care of the municipal court cases, here stepped 
up to the prisoner, and gave him the usual advice. 

“Perhaps you would prefer to wave examina- 
tion,^’ he said. This was to wash his hands of the 
case as soon as possible, and would throw the bur- 
den of the work upon the grand jury. 

“I am ignorant of the law,” was the answer. 
“What effect will that have.?” 

“Why, you see you will not be obliged to stand 
trial now, and can wait until the grand jury meets, 
when they will examine the witnesses and pass up- 
on the indictment. Meantime you can give a bond 
for your appearance.” 

“I can procure no bonds. I have no friends in 
this city.” 

“Well, the cash will do as well. The court will 
fix the amount.” 

“1 have no money, other than that taken from 
me last night.” 

“Oh, bosh,” cried the attorney. “Don’t tell us 
that, for we know the money was stolen. You will 
fare better if you don’t stick to that story. Better 
think up some other defense.” 

“I don’t see the use of putting off the trial. If I 


66 


YET IT IS THE LAW 


have it now, I may be able to procure some wit- 
nesses who will prove me innocent of the charge. 
Can’t it be continued a few days until I find them 

“Yes, I suppose so. The court will consent to 
that I guess. Give me the address of your witnesses, 
and I will see that they are on hand for you. 
That’s more than I would do for some people in 
your fix, but I have rather taken a fancy to you.’^ 

“Give you their addresses.^” cried the prisoner. 
“How can I do that when I don’t know. There 
are two men who saw me have that money before 
last night, but I must have time to find them. If I 
only had my liberty I feel sure I would be success- 
iuV^ 

“Impossible without the bond or the cash,” re- 
plied the attorney decisively. 

“Come, come,” cried the court impatiently. 
“You must hurry this up Mr. City Attorney, for 
our time is precious.” 

Suddenly a ray of hope came to the prisoner. 
The two witnesses he felt sure were in the city, 
and if he had an attorney they could be found with 
his help. He heard that the state allowed prisoners 
attorneys when they were too poor to hire one. 

“Will the court appoint an attorney for me.^” he 
asked desperately. 


YET IT IS THE LAW 


67 


“If you have the money to pay one, of course,” 
said the judge, “not otherwise.” 

“Does not the state allow me an attorney at its 
expense 

“Not in this court, young man,” was the sarcas- 
tic answer. “After you are indicted, and arraigned, 
the court which you will appear before then will 
allow you legal advice. We are wasting time. Mr. 
Clerk, the prisoner waives examination. Let him, 
be held in the county jail to await the action of the 
grand jury.” 

A great wave of indignation came over the pris- 
oner at the words of the judge. To his mind he 
was being ill-used beyond all precedent, and he 
wondered what hidden power it was which was 
working against him. It seemed to him as if he 
had some secret enemy who was placing obstacles 
in his path for a purpose. Poor fellow. He knew 
little of the workings of the law, or he would have 
known that justice is the most uncertain of all lot- 
teries, and that he was being treated in the ordin- 
ary way. He was not one to bear a supposed in- 
justice in silence, and his head was lifted high as 
he addressed the room in clear tones which were 
either the acme of bravado, or the utmost assur- 
ance of innocence. 


68 


YET IT IS THE LAW 


“I have been brought up to believe,” said he 
‘^that in America at least, a man is assumed to be 
innocent until he is proved to be guilty. I now 
see my mistake. The public has been misinformed, 
and our children must be taught to know different- 
ly, that here, a man is known to be guilty until he 
proves himself innocent. Your honor has even 
seen fit to take from me the right to plead for my- 
self, and politely waive examination for me. I see 
very plainly that it is useless to expect justice here, 
and I accept the inevitable, and as you say, waive 
examination. God knows what that may mean 
for me, but it can be no worse than what is in - 
flicted upon me by being compelled to remain for a 
moment in this foul den of formal injustice I have 
seen it in the sentences you have meted out to 
those who have appeared before you to-day. To' 
the wife beater — ” 

^‘Remove the prisoner,” cried the court with a 
scowl of anger. “He will get what he deserves at 
the hands of the law, or if it were possible to add 
in any way to his punishment, he should be im- 
prisoned for contempt.” 

The officer took charge of him and they started 
back to the cell. Some few of the officers of the 


v_ 

YET IT IS THE LAW 69 

court smiled broadly at the outburst of the'' prisoner. 

They were delighted to see the consequential 
judge taken down a trifle, if only by a prisoner, 
but, the majority of those in the room looked with 
holy horror upon the vile evildoer who could per- 
petrate a crime, and then dare to take the court to 
task for inaugurating a punishment of the offense. 

There was one young man in that room who had 
been affected differently, and who had looked with 
positive disgust upon the sentences imposed by the 
court, so apparently unjust in all cases in compar- 
ison with the charges. That young man was Donald 
Tremaine. He was struck by the bearing of the 
prisoner, and believed every word he said. There 
was no guilt in his opinion in that grand uplifted 
head, nor in the ringing tones with which he ad- 
dressed the court in words of biting sarcasm, and 
he resolved that he would help the man himself. If 
in all that court-room the prisoner had not a friend 
to come to his relief, he would do so if only 
to give the judge who had, in his opinion, been 
guilty of such gross injustice, a little slap on his 
own account. As the prisoner passed through the 
door in company with the officer, Donald touched 
the man upon the arm, as the troubled one turned, 


;o 


YET IT IS THE LAW 


he beheld for the first time since the day before a 
friendly face filled with human sympathy, and 
brotherly feeling. He paused for just a moment, 
wondering. 

“Cheer up,” said Donald softly, nodding his head 
as if to imply wonderful things. “I believe you, 
and will be your friend. Don’t you fret. I’ll see 
to it that you get out of this myself, if money can 
do it.” 

“God bless you,” cried the prisoner, breaking 
down for the first time since his capture, the moist- 
ure coming to his eyes and a tremble to his voice. 
He would have said more, but the officer had no- 
ticed the little by-play, and pulled him along to 
the lockup. 

Alas for good intentions. When Donald prom- 
ised the prisoner that he would help him, he fully 
intended to do so. He had been taken with the 
bearing of the man, and had resolved to at least 
go his bail, and give him an opportunity of hunt- 
ing up the witnesses to prove his innocence. He 
would certainly have done so, had he not made 
one little mistake. He resolved to talk with the 
officers at the lockup, and in that one circumstance 
was the reason that John Doe did not go out on 
bail that same day. 


YET IT IS THE LAW 




The police officer is a queer individual, morally. 
He is invariably tender in all cases of actual dis- 
tress, where the object of the misfortune is not 
supposed to be a criminal, and circumstances are 
transpiring every day where he is acting the good 
Samaritan in more ways than one. But woe to the 
poor mortals against which the finger of suspicion 
has been pointed, for they are lawful prey, and 
the police officer knows no other belief than one of 
guilt. That is his one crime in a host of virtues, 
and one which works him many grievances with 
the public at large. 

So it was in this case. Donald went to the 
office, and talked with the officers. The one who 
had made the arrest was there, also those who had 
locked the man up. They had been in the court- 
room prepared to testify, and had not yet gone 
home. They laughed good-naturedly at the young 
man, and wanted to know if he was anxious to 
throw away his money. 

^Tt’s a sure case,^’ said Officer Rafferty, “and 
he will go over the road. Sure there’s not the 
particle of evidence he can get for himself. It’s 
as good as if we saw the deed.” 

“Perhaps that is so,” replied Donald, “but I want 


72 


YET IT IS THE LAW 


to give the fellow a chance. I intend to go his 
bail, and let him fight it out.'' 

‘'And you’d whistle for your bail afterwards," 
said the captain, “for he’d give you leg bail in a 
holy minute and you’d never set eyes on him again. 
You take our advice, young fellow, and save your 
money." 

Strange to say the jailer, the one whom the 
prisoner had struck when they attempted to search 
him7 was the only one to speak a good word for 
him. 

“He fools me," said that individual thoughtfully. 
“These fellows don’t usually show fight when we 
get them in here. Mind, I don’t say he is innocent 
of course, but it’s a funny thing. He has a great 
fist, that fellow." 

So Donald was persuaded to forego his good 
intention, and did not fulfill his promise to the 
prisoner. He was even ashamed to let the family 
know of his momentary weakness when he returned 
to the house, leaving that portion of the story out 
of his narrative when he rehearsed it at the dinner 
table. His recital practically settled the case of 
John Doe as far as that family was concerned, for 
in their minds he had already been tried at the 
great bar of justice and found guilty. 


YET IT IS THE LAW 


73 


Meantime the prisoner waited, and waited in his 
cell at the county jail to which he had been taken, 
expecting that the young man who had accosted 
him would see that he was freed, but as day after 
day passed and he heard no tidings, he began to 
believe that the young man had either thought 
better of his promise, or the court had placed 
obstacles in the way of his release. Several times 
he asked the jailer to make inquiry, and he learned 
from the county attorney that there had been no 
further move in his case. The grand jury would 
sit in three months he was informed, and then his 
case would be heard. Three months of uncertainty, 
in a common jail, without a trial. What agony to a 
high spirited man of superior tastes and the physical 
make up of an Apollo. Imagine it if you can. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN. 

The excitable times attending the convention 
had passed, yet the guests at the Allen mansion still 
remained in the city to take advantage of the hos- 
pitality of their host. They had been so charmed 
with the city and the climate of Minnesota that they 
had resolved to prolong their stay for some time 
longer. Summer days were speeding by, and the 
calm golden autumn was fast approaching. 

It was not so much the weather which was 
keeping the young people together. It must j 
be confessed that the little god Cupid, who had ; 
been quite outshone in the past excitement had i 
suddenly asserted himself, and had made such an : 
indiscriminate attack upon that household that 
there bid fair to be a general capitulation some- 
where in the near future. 

It is not the intention of this tale to keep in the 
back-ground to puzzle the reader, the exact status 
74 


THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN 


75 


of love affairs with the young people. They had 
been thrown together during the festivities attend- 
ing the entertainments for their benefit, quite 
enough to have them feel as if they had known each 
other for a much longer period of time. It had 
been patent to the others that young Charley Tre- 
maine had formed an attachment for Blanche 
Bearing, and that his love was returned. Charley 
was an impressionable fellow of a rather quick 
temper, but a kindly disposition when in a normal 
state, and Blanche was just that sort of easy going 
girl, who would not quarrel with him when he was 
out of sorts, and who could argue with him suffi- 
ciently to be interesting when he was in good 
humor. It is such girls who are made for such 
men, for they do not cross them, nor are they so 
complaisant when they know it is safe to be a 
trifle combative. 

It was plain to be seen that Miss Laclaire had 
set her cap for Donald. He was to have a desirable 
competency some day, and she was comparitively 
poor, and beingayounglady of extravagant tastes, he 
was just the young man she had been looking for 
for some time. He admired her greatly. He had 
not passed beyond that stage when men make a study 


76 THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN 

of the women they fancy they might fall in love 
with, so his case was not dangerous. He admired 
the polish, but was fearful that there was a lack of 
heart; a thing that he would never forgive in a 
woman. He had not failed to note her preference 
for him, and it made him so much aware that she 
was to be had for the asking, that it took away 
much of the poetry connected with the outlook. 

Alas, true love does not always run smooth. 
Jacob Vosse had not prospered one whit in his 
wooing, and with all his self-satisfied air, he had 
nothing to show for his great expectations more 
than had been his for many months. But he was 
a man, and consequently not deserving of sympathy. 
Poor Lola Riche was the one flower in that galaxy 
of beauty who wasto be pitied. She was probably the 
most beautiful of all the party. Her face was a perfect 
oval, and not a fault could be found with a single 
feature, from the transparent ear, and the rounded 
cheek and moist red lips, to the clear hazel eyes, 
which shone in such direct contrast to a crown of 
the most sunny brown hair that ever waved over 
the forhead of feminine loveliness. Her skin was 
velvety and fair, and her cheeks reddened with the 
hue of health; yet she alone was not happy. 


THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN 


77 


Poor little Lola; with lips made for kisses, and 
a form perfect enough to have posed as a model 
for the ancient sculptors; she alone must pine 
under the pall of unrequited affection, for she had 
fallen desperately in love with Donald Tremaine, 
who though he was pleasant and friendly, never 
gave her a tender word or glance to show that he 
fancied her. She was too proud to confess to a 
living soul the state of her heart, even to her almost 
sister, Eunice, and the keeping of her secret 
was nearly making her ill. She was of a loving 
disposition, and capable of strong and lasting 
affection, and her first real love was causing 
her heartfelt trouble. No one even guessed 
her secret, Donald least of all, and the chances 
were that the pretty flower would droop and 
whither, unseen by the passer-by, whose hand 
might have plucked the treasure, which would 
forever more have perfumed his home with 
the fragrance of the und3dng affection of a loving 
woman. 

It was one beautiful day toward the last of 
August, when Eunice was seated alone in the bay 
window of the library. The rest of the young 
people were off on some expedition down town, 


78 


THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN 


but she had pleaded duty to some correspondents, 
and had remained at home to write some letters 
She had finished her task and was lolling back in 
her easy chair, busy with her own thoughts. She 
was glad to be alone. That bevy of happy young 
people about her, while at times it charmed, at 
other times made her sad. They were free hearted 
and could mingle in their affections, while in her 
heart there nestled one memory which had grown 
with time to a far greater proportion than she had 
ever thought it would. Try as she would, she 
could not forget that day on the mountain in Colo- 
rado, nor the young man who had accompanied 
her. 

How different he had been from all those about 
her. They were companionable, and worthy of 
affection, but he had been so different. At the 
most, other young men she had met were but 
every day men. He was one of nature’s noble- 
men, in whose makeup was the promise of some- 
thing grander than the mediocre. He was fit to 
shine among his fellows bright and distinct, and he 
had loved her. She knew that to be a fact as well 
as if his lips had framed the words. Would they 
ever meet again. ^ Without knowing she was be- 


THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN 


79 


coming so moved, the moisture came to her eyes 
at the thought, and she sighed heavily in her own 
solitude of heart. 

Just at this most inauspicious moment there was 
a noise at the entrance to the room, and a slight 
cough, evidently purposely given by the intruder, 
was emitted for the purpose of attracting her atten- 
tion. She wheeled about in her chair, not well 
pleased at being disturbed in her thoughts even 
though they had been filled with pain, and beheld 
the tall figure, drooping mustache and white teeth 
of Vosse, all formed into one gigantic smile of 
apology and satisfaction. 

‘‘I just saw you were alone, Eunice,” was the 
soft greeting, ‘‘and I thought I would drop in and 
have a talk with you. It’s too pleasant a day to 
waste alone, isn’t it.^” 

At almost any time, Mr. Vosse would hardly 
have been joyfully or enthusiastically welcomed to 
a tete-a-tete with or by Miss Allen, and on the 
present occasion while she had been nursing her 
“so sweet sorrow,” there was hardly one person 
alive who would have jarred upon her nerves as 
did Vosse. She was to be excused therefore that 
there was a slight frown upon her face as she an * 
swered him in bitterest sarcasm. 


6 


So 


THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN 


“Of course. It is too nice a day to be alone. I 
wish I had some one with me. So kind of you to 
take pity upon me and inflict your presence for a 
time, just to liven matters up.” 

“Now don’t begin your sparring the moment we 
get together,” he replied, choking back his rising 
choler. “I have been awaiting this opportunity 
for some time, for I want to say something to you. 
I really think you should hear me.” 

“If you will insist in making yourself still more 
unpleasant than I had anticipated, I suppose there 
is no help for it,” was the reply of the disgusted 
young lady. “Pray be as brief as possible.” 

“You know, of course, to what I refer.?” 

“Oh, yes. Granted. Pray pass over that, and 
present your case, as papa would say.” 

“Speaking of your father,” replied Vosse, strug- 
gling to keep his temper, “you know very well that 
he has no objections to me as a suitor for your 
hand, and that should bear much weight with you.” 

“Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant and im- 
material, again as papa would say. You have 
drummed upon that part of the story too often in 
the past. If you have nothing new to say, we need 
not prolong this interview.” 


THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN 8 1 

Eunice arose scornfully, and looked beautifully 
repellent as she apparently awaited his departure 
from her presence. The young man began to lose 
patience, and stepped toward her as he begged her 
to listen to him. 

‘‘It is not all I have to say,’’ he cried moved be- 
yond his ordinarily cold and precise manner. 
“You know that it is the one desire of my life to^ 
call you my wife. I will not speak of the love I 
bear you — ” 

“Don’t,” was the scornful interruption, accom- 
panied by a short laugh, which galled him beyond 
expression. 

“I will not, I say, because it is quite certain that 
you have not learned to love me as yet. I have 
been at your feet for months, years it seems to me, 
and your heart has not yet been touched. Still 
you must see the advantage of a marriage with me. 
I am rich, and the woman I will call wife will have 
everything that heart could wish, for the asking. 
I know you argue that you do not now want for 
anything, but while your father is in comfortable 
circumstances, his well known liberality has kept 
him far this side of what might be called a wealthy 


man. 


82 


THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN 


“Dear papa,” murmured the girl, a tender ex- 
pression coming to her face. 

“Now with me it is different — ” 

“Very.” 

“I am rich beyond ordinary men, and can give 
you that station in life which you are so amply 
fitted to adorn. You have but to say the word, 
and myself and my fortune are at your feet.” 

“And how about the love, which you admit I do 
not have for you?” The question was asked in a 
little tone of wonder. 

“I have enough for both. You will learn in time 
to care for me, and in the meantime I will be sat- 
isfied.” 

“You mean that you would be satisfied with me 
were I to accept and marry you, not loving you. 
Were I a man and I should love a woman who 
would be guilty of such a debasing act, I would 
tear my heart out, but I would forget her.” There 
was a look of ineffable scorn accompanying these 
words, which she flung at her wooer. “In my 
opinion, it would be the most debasing act a true 
woman could be guilty of. No, not I, thank 
Heaven,” 

“But think for a moment, Eunice,” cried he, 
disappointed and angry at once. 


THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN 


83 


^^Think?” she exclaimed, making a step to leave 
him, “I can only think of the insulting proposition 
you have made me, and despise you all the more 
bitterly for it.’’ 

^‘You shall listen to me, ”he cried, stepping in 
front of her and barring her egress. “You did not 
treat me so badly until we made that trip to Col- 
orado. Ah, I see your cheeks redden. But for 
your absurd fancy for that low mountain guide, it 
might have been different. You speak of base 
propositions. Was it such a decorous act to take 
that trip up Gray’s peak alone with that low fellow.^ 
Ah, I have touched you at last, have I? You 
did, you do love himy 

The taunt had struck home for an instant, and 
the cheeks of the girl had reddened, while she 
strove to appear calm. She did not care if all the 
world knew of that ascent, but her love, a feeling 
held sacred, had been surprised in its safe retreat, 
and it threw her into a flutter for a moment. 

“Let me pass,” she cried, drawing herself to 
her full height before him. “You are insufferable ' 
in your insulting manner. Let me pass I say.” 

“Not until you answer my question.” His eyes 
were blazing now, and his bad disposition showed 


84 the hour but not the man 

itself in his mad attempt to taunt her. ^‘You love 
that low fellow.” 

“That mountain guide was a prince by the side 
of you, Jacob Vosse,” she cried as her eyes flashed, 
and her nostrils dilated with anger. “He towers 
over you in politeness, as the giant overtops the 
pigmy. If I loved him, I would be proud of it. 
As proud as I am of the fact that 1 hate you. Let 
me pass I say.” 

“Ah, you love him,” was the fierce answer. “I 
read it in your eyes, and in the tone of your voice. 
Curse him. Curse him, I say, forevermore for 
coming between me and you. May he feel my 
curses to his very marrow and — ” 

“Coward,” cried Eunice in a ringing voice. 
“Oh, that he were here to resent this insult to us 
both.” 

“Let the lady pass.” 

The calm voice came from the doorway and, 
both turned to see Donald Tremaine entering the 
room, a quiet smile upon his face and apparently 
not in the least angered or excited. He never 
forgot himself no matter what the occasion. Vosse 
drew back, and affected a mirthless laugh, while 
Eunice swept by and ran to her own room to have 


THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN 


85 


a good cry, now that it was all over. Her hero 
had been insulted, and no one had been there to 
speak for him. 

“Eunice and I were having one of our little dis- 
agreements as usual,’’ said Vosse apologetically, 
showing his teeth in an affable manner. “She has 
a bad temper sometimes.” 

“Don’t ever let the same state of affairs occur 
again,” was Tremaine’s calm answer, eying the 
speaker somewhat sharply, “and above all Vosse, 
don’t lie. It is a remarkably bad habit as you 
must know.” 

With that he left the room with his hands in his 
pockets, whistling a few bars of a popular air, 
while Vosse was left to expend his rage upon the 
vacant room, and he did full justice to the occasion. 
He was a violent man at times, though he schooled 
himself to appear collected in company, and he 
was angry with himself that he had made a mis- 
take. He was fearful that Eunice would lay the 
case before her father, and he feared for the result. 
It was not his plan to be forbidden the house, 
while there appeared to be any chance to have 
revenge upon the woman he professed to love, 
and he fancied that he could work out some scheme 


86 


THE HOUR BUT NOT THE MAN 


to cause her to think the man she had almost con- 
fessed to loving, was unworthy her affection. 
Eunice however did not mention the occurrence to 
her father. She was too proud to confess that she 
had been hurt, and relied upon herself to success- 
fully combat her suitor, especially as she felt she 
had a champion in her cousin. 


CHAPTER VIL 


THE COUNTY BASTILE. 

Meantime the man known to the court as John 
Doe, but in reality Hector Forbes, the mountain 
guide, had languished in a cell in the county jail 
for upward of two months. He had been placed 
with the jailer who was admonished to keep a 
sharp watch over him, as he was dangerous, and for 
that reason he had not been allowed the use of the 
corridor, where he could have exercised his frame 
after the close confinement of the cell, and the state 
of things had told upon him. Those who are unac- 
quainted with the environments of prison life, can 
not comprehend what imprisonment of that kind 
means for an active hearty man, who has passed 
the main portion of his life in the open air. It is 
like placing the blooming plant in a charnel house, 
like subjecting the hot-house flower to the air of a 
cellar. In that short space of time, the face be- 
came haggard, the shoulders drooped, and the 
step was uncertain. 


87 


88 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


The main room of the jail was a lofty hall, with 
bare stone walls and a cement floor. The light 
entered from long narrow windows, running from 
about half way up, to the top, heavily grated with 
steel bars, run both vertically and horizontally. 
In this was a row of double cages, three tiers high, 
looking very much like a pile of chicken coops at 
a market. In the centers of these long cages, 
were the cells, a corridor running about the outer 
edge, and still outside of this, the balconies, or 
porches to the tiers. The entrance to the room 
itself was through a door reached from the outside 
by an iron stairway, and this door was fenced in 
by a circular steel cage, called the watch cage. 
The floors to all these balconies, and t[ie stairway 
approaches to the cage were of sheet iion. 

In each cell was a bunk made of iron, with a mattress 
and blankets. There was a table also, and a chair 
in some of them, but in many of the cells where 
the “dangerous” men were confined, the cot 
sufficed to sleep and sit upon. It was in one of 
these latter in the upper tier, that Forbes was con- 
fined. The jailer after nearly two months had 
elapsed had concluded that he was not quite as 
dangerous as he had been painted, and a few days 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


before had allowed him the run of the corridor. 
It was, like having a new lease of life, to be 
allowed to pace up and down that confined way, 
and stretch his limbs, for they had become cramped 
and numbed from inactivity. He had thanked his 
jailer, with the first exhibition of real feeling he 
had shown since his confinement. Men in his 
position are thankful for small favors. 

The open work of the cages permitted speech 
between the prisoners, and many of them had at- 
tempted to strike up a conversation with him, but 
he would not answer. . He did not care to mix up 
with them in any way. Now however that he was 
allowed his daily exercise, he began to pine for 
society, and even hoped that some of them would 
strive to renew their previous attempts at an ac- 
quaintance. It was not long before he was accos- 
ted, and as he was in the humor, he soon had a 
speaking friendship with those whom he could reach. 

One well-dressed young fellow, with a fairly 
intelligent face especially interested him. He had 
noticed that the man had taken his confinement 
philosophically, and while he yawned as if filled 
with ennui at times, did not appear to be very 
much broken down over his ill luck. At times he 


90 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


had amused himself with reading rather question- 
able looking literature. 

‘‘Hello, old man,” cried this individual. “So 
they have given you a leg stretcher, have they. 
Pull up here, and let’s have a talk. What are 
you in for.?” 

This was the usual question as the initiative, and 
Forbes expected it. 

“Charged with robbery,” was the low reply. 

“Whew. That’s heavy. Same thing here,” he 
whispered. “What was yours.?” 

“I am accused of assaulting a man, and robbing 
him of a large amount of money; but I was inno- 
cent.” 

“Sure thing,” was the reply, given in a chuckle. 
“Same thing here. I went through a jeweler at 
the point of a gun, but they claim to have caught 
me. Didn’t do it though. Where do you come 
from .?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” was the reply. 

“Oh, of course not. Excuse me for asking. If 
you want to keep shady, it’s all right. Got any 
defense.?” 

“Any defense.? Why I didn’t do it. The fact 
is, the man who says I robbed him, really tried to 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


91 


rob me, and after I had beaten him off, he had 
me arrested for stealing my own money.” 

The other prisoner looked at Forbes for a 
moment, and a look of genuine admiration came 
to his face. 

“You're a good one,” he whispered. “That’s a 
cuckoo. Got any good witnesses to swear to it.^ 
No.^ That’s bad, but it is a brilliant idea, especi- 
ally if he ain’t known very well.” 

“Do you know when they will let us out of this.^” 
asked Forbes after a moment’s silence. 

“Soon as the grand jury meets, and that’s pretty 
soon, they will give us a hearing — that is, they 
will give the other side a hearing — and we will be 
brought up to plead a few days after. Haven’t 
you been hauled up before.^” 

“Never. Great God, no!” 

“You’re a good one. You must have had great 
luck. Now I have been — ” 

“There’s no use of our talking,” said Forbes, 
sadly. “I see you don’t understand me, and think 
I am a thief, so I will see if I can find another 
wronged man in this miserable place.” 

With that he left the criminal, who in turn 
looked with admiration upon what he considered 


92 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


the great acting of his companion in crime. Even 
among prisoners, a man in a jail is assumed to 
be guilty, for the very reason that he is there. 

At another time Hector entered into conversa- 
tion with a young fellow, a mere boy apparently, 
who had been imprisoned even longer than himself. 
He was a bright looking young fellow, whose dress 
showed that he was from the lower walks of life, 
but there was no imprint of crime upon his face. 
Forbes had studied him for some time before 
venturing to address him, and had begun to 
wonder how it came that he was confined there. 
The boy was reticent at first, but finally entered 
into conversation as he saw that his interrogator 
was an educated man, and one who might sympa- 
thize with him. 

‘‘How long have you been in this vile place, my 
poor boy .?’^ he asked. 

The kindly voice brought the suspicion of a tear 
to the eyes of the youngster as he answered, 
“About three months.^’ 

“What are you charged with.?” 

“Oh I didn’t do anything really.” Was the 
earnest answer. “They all know that now, and I 
am only waiting until the lawyer gets me out.” 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


93 


‘‘What do you mean by saying that everybody 
knows it? Surely if they did you would not be 
here.’^ 

“Well, I don’t know much about law,^^ replied 
the boy, “but you see it’s like this. The cop 
arrested me for breaking in a crib where they keep 
cigars, and I was brought before the judge in the 
municipal court — 

“I know,” interrupted Hector. “I was there.” 

“Well, the judge down there,” continued the 
boy, “he said I was guilty, and I must stay in jail 
unless I got bail, until the grand jury meets. I 
couldn’t get bail, so they sent me here. Now 
you see I didn’t do that job at all, for they caught 
the right fellow, anyway one of them, and he gave 
the snap away, telling as how it was another fellow 
and not me as did it. That’s how they all know 
as I didn’t.” 

“Then why don’t they let you out of here?” 

“Well you see, I had a lawyer. My pardner 
that I runs with got him for me, and he says that 
when a feller has been sent up to wait for the 
grand jury, he has to wait for it, that’s all, even 
if he didn’t do it. When that grand jury meets, 
then they will show, my lawyer will, that I didn’t 


94 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


crack the crib, and then they will let me go.'' 

“So you have been imprisoned for three months, 
for a crime you did not commit, and a part of that 
time after they all know you did not.^" 

“That’s about the size of it, sir," replied the 
boy, as if it was a matter he had no choice in. 

“Then I say that the law is a worse criminal 
than any confined here, and that heaven itself 
should rise up against such injustice," cried Hector, 
apalled at what he had heard. “If such is the 
law, no one is safe." 

Poor fellow. He did not realize that the law is 
a heavy piece of machinery to which there is no 
halt until it comes to one of its regular stations, 
where people may get on or off by schedule time, 
as it has been pre-arranged by that heavy set of 
ignoramuses who originally framed the statutes. 
To Hector, who knew absolutely nothing about 
law of any kind, the statement of the young fellow 
seemed too absurd even for possibility. It could 
not be that in the present century such a known 
state of things could endure even for a day! Here 
was a human being, a citizen of that great republic 
which prides itself upon its freedom, and the rights 
of man, confined in a jail for three mortal months, 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


95 


every day of which he had passed behind the bars 
known to be an innocent victim. 

He had thought his own case a hard one, but 
before the evidence given by his youthful acquaint- 
ance, his wrongs sunk into absolute insignificance. 
In his case, the state perhaps had a right to pre- 
sume that he was guilty, even before his case was 
heard, though that was bad enough. But to hold 
a man in prison, who had done no wrong, against 
whom not even the assumption of guilt could be 
brought, was a horror he could hardly comprehend. 
And yet had he known it, the same state of things 
had happened, the same state of things was liable 
to happen again at any moment under the present 
state of the law. He learned afterward from the 
jailer that the boy had told the truth, and it made 
him bear up better under his own troubles, for 
misery loves company, and injustice doubly so. 

The prisoners were given plenty of liberty in the 
main. From seven o'clock in the morning until 
seven in the evening, the cell gates were open, and 
the men were allowed to mingle together in the 
cage corridors, or even visit in each other's cells. 
It was not long therefore before Hector became 
more or less acquainted with all the men confined 


7 


96 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


in that tier. He learned also that the young fellow 
who had been found to be innocent, had become 
infatuated with a well-known criminal who was 
up for the third time in that same jail. He occu- 
pied his leisure moments, which of course were 
many, in filling the boy’s young mind with the 
fine times that were always at hand for the pro- 
fessional thief and pickpocket, and there was no 
doubt but what he had won the boy over com- 
pletely, so much so that the young fellow attempted 
to make a convert of Hector in turn. 

“Just look at us here, explained the young 
pupil. “We ain’t done nothing. You say you 
haven’t and I know I didn’t, and they keeps us 
here just like we had held up some bloke, or 
blowed the top of his head off. Now Spike over 
there in number forty-one, he’s sensible, he is. 
He says as how it ain’t once in a hundred times 
they gets caught, and they lives an easy life. 
When I gets out I’m goin’ to hunt up some of 
Spike’s friends, I am.” 

It was in vain that Hector tried to win him 
away from the evil influences. He‘ was a fluent 
talker, but with all his command of language, the 
example was before the boy, and he would not be 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


97 


convinced. It was hard to talk against stubborn 
facts. 

“I’ll come and see you when I gets out/’ said the 
boy, “for I like you, and you mean well. Perhaps 
you’ll join the gang. I’ll do anything I can for, 
you. Why you might as well, for when you gets 
out of here, everybody will think you are a jail 
bird, and you won’t have no show.” 

“I can only say,” said Hector sadly, “that this 
is an example of the way the law manufactures 
criminals. It appears to be one of the chief in- 
dustries of the country at the present time. Here 
you were brought to this place an innocent young 
fellow, who had never been guilty of a criminal act. 
Rank injustice, the opportunity to meet with 
hardened characters, and the living example of the 
injustice of the law before you in your own case, 
has made you a fit subject for some future rogue’s 
gallery. Well, I suppose it is the law.” 

At this point in their conversation they were 
interrupted by a commotion at the watch cage. 
The iron door swung open, and the jailer admitted 
a quartet of ladies to the cage and closed the door 
after them. Some of the prisoners who had been 
there before gave an ironical laugh, and the word 


98 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


was passed along the line that the Christian Union 
was coming. There was a general exodus from 
the cells to the corridors, as the four women came 
up the iron stairs, in order to visit the upper tier 
first. 

Hector watched them narrowly, as they made 
the ascent. It had been so long since he had 
seen a woman of the better class, that their en- 
trance seemed to him like a breath of pure air from 
that world in which he had once moved. Three 
of them were quite elderly ladies, but the other 
was young, and comparatively pretty, though a 
look of enforced sanctimony marred the otherwise 
intelligent face. One of the elder ladies was quite 
fleshy, and as fussy as such people are apt to be. 
The other two were tall and slim, and looked 
severe. They were all clad in quiet black, as if 
attired to attend a funeral. They were led up to 
the grating at the end of the corridor, and the men 
such as wished, drew near out of curiosity. 

“Who are they asked Hector in a whisper of 
the boy. 

“They are Womans Christian Temperance Union 
people, and they have come to preach to the boys. 
They make me tired. 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


99 


am afraid you are already hardened,” said 
Hector sadly. “I have no doubt they are good 
ladies, who have devoted much of their time to 
cheering the poor souls who have been confined in 
these dark places. They should be thanked, and 
not condemned by the men confined here.” 

“Perhaps,” said the boy grinning at the same 
time. “You just see them yourself.” 

“I intend to,” was the answer, and after his 
young friend had walked away, he awaited an 
opportunity after the others had left the grating, 
and just as the ladies were turning away, to press 
forward, and speak to them. 

“I beg your pardon,” he said, “but it is so long 
since I have spoken to a lady, that I hate to see 
you go without speaking.” 

“Poor sinning soul,” said the fleshy lad}^ softly, 
motioning the others to remain a moment. “He 
has been a gentleman some time too, dearies 
Clara, have you a copy of that tract by dear sweet 
Brother Grimes, upon how to reach Jesus 

Clara, the young lady, had one, and it was passed 
in to Hector by the tips of the fingers. He took 
it mechanically, and thrust it into his pocket. It 
was not a tract he wanted, so much as a few 
pleasant words. 


lOO 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


“Does the jailer treat you well?^^ inquired the 
fleshy lady, coming quite close, and looking around 
to see that she was not overheard by one of the 
deputies. “You do not wish to make a complaint 

“No, I have nothing against the way we are 
treated,” was the answer. 

“And are you quite sure now,” resumed his 
questioner, in the most strained whisper, “that the 
jailer does not smuggle in whisky to you if any of 
you have the money to purchase it.” 

“I am sure I couldn’t tell you, madam,” answered 
Hector, beginning to be a little impatient. “The 
matter as to whether or not whisky finds its en- 
trance here is a small one by the side of the life 
histories of some of the people here. I do not 
know, and I am free to confess that I do not care.” 

The lady turned to her companions with a hor- 
rified expression of countenance. “He is quite 
hardened,” she said. 

“Quite hardened,” was the triple echo. 

“Young man, do you pray.?” was the further 
query, 

“If I ever do, it will be that I may escape from 
this foul place,” was the answer. “I am an inno- 
cent man, forced here by a chain of circumstances. 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


lOI 


What may be necessary in some other cases, does 
not apply to me.” 

“Do not rail against the law, young man,” said 
the lady severely. “It will avail you nothing to 
brazen it out. It will be much better for you to 
learn to feel that your punishment is deserved, 
and turn to Christ for comfort. Read the tract I 
have given you, and pray for your soul, as we will 
pray for it. Remember the thief on the cross, and 
remember that even you may be saved.” 

For the first time since his confinement, Hector 
felt angry enough to emit the oath which had 
almost come to his lips, but he desisted, and bit 
his lip in the effort to keep it back, as the delega- 
tion of women turned away and left him there. 
They too believed him guilty without a hearing. 

Their Christianity was not of that kind which 
would even assume that a fellow-being was less 
black than he was painted, They too had judged 
him guilty without a trial. It was a foretaste of 
what was in store for him. He whirled on his heel 
and going to his cell, flung himself upon his couch, 
the bitter tears welling up in his eyes. 

The evening shadows began to fall. He had 
not tasted food, refusing that proffered him. 


102 


THE COUNTY BASTILE 


Slowly the shadows crept into the distant corners 
of that lofty room, and the voices of his fellow 
prisoners became hushed. He arose on his elbow, 
and thrusting his hand into his bosom, he drew 
forth, a small slender glove which he held tenderly. 
He pressed it to his lips, and spread it out upon his 
hand, and looked at it reverently. She had given 
it to him. On the white kid inside the wrist, was 
neatly printed in black ink: 

Eunice L. Allen, 

Minneapolis, Minn. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME. 

Some few days afterward, while the men were 
amusing themselves as best they could awaiting 
the meeting of the grand jury, which was to occur 
in a few days. Hector was approached by a man 
well on in years, with whom he had not as yet held 
a conversation. He was seated in his cell at the 
time, reading a paper that had been allowed him, 
by the kindness of the jailer, when the man ap- 
peared at the opening of his cell and spoke to 
him. 

“You don’t know me,’’ said the man, “nor I you, 
but I have been intending to speak to you for some 
• time, in fact ever since you had that little talk 
with those women who called here the other day. 
May I come in?” 

“Certainly,” was the ready answer. “One is 
glad to have any attention paid him in this place, 
and I am glad to have you help lighten my misery, 
103 


104 


CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME 


if you can. A seat on the bunk is the best I have 
to offer you at present. The accommodations are 
not extensive.” 

‘‘No,” was the answer, “but they are as much as 
the most of us deserve.” 

“You don’t mean — ” 

“Yes I do. I am an intelligent man, who has 
been at the top of the ladder in my day. I once 
owned a considerable property here in the city, 
but an inordinate love for strong drink, coupled 
with a craze for gambling has brought me to this. 
In a moment of misery and despair I forged a 
check. It was a small amount, but that cuts no 
figure. I am guilty, and will so plead when the 
time comes, trusting to the leniency of the court. 
I deserve all I am getting, and more too, for my 
poor wife and child suffer far more acutely than I 
do. It is they who will receive the worst blow in 
my sentence.” 

“I am heartily sorry for you,” said Hector, true 
feeling in his voice. “I hope you will make up 
your mind to lead a different life when you finally 
go free.” 

“I have resolved, and I hope I may be able to 
keep my resolution. I felt that you were not like 


CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME IO5 

the rest of those about us — no, you need not tell 
me what brings you here. I can read human 
nature, and I know you are not a criminal, no 
matter what may be the circumstances.” 

“Allow me to thank you,” said Hector feelingly, 
“for the first real words of kindness I have heard 
since I entered this miserable place.” 

“What caused me to address you to-day,” con- 
tinued the man, running on as if he had a purpose, 
“was that I noticed the conversation you held 
with those women the other day, and I thought it 
might be interesting to you to know a little circum- 
stance in the history of one of them. Would you 

“If it is a story, it will while away the time, and 
I will be your debtor for the telling.” 

“Some years ago,” began the forger, after a 
pause, “one of the women who was in that party 
of tract carriers to the great criminal population of 
the land, was a prosperous business woman having 
a large establishment on one of the principal busi- 
ness streets of this city. She has that business 
still, but the success or failure of her mercantile 
ventures has nothing to do with this story I am 
about to tell you. 

“The family consisted of the wife, the husband, 


i06 CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME 

and a boy about fifteen years of age, who was one 
of the brightest, handsomest young fellows I ever 
met. I was working in a leading capacity for a 
firm near the place of business of the mother, and 
this son was a sort of errand boy about the place 
where he was a general favorite with all the help 
about him. He was kindly, trustworthy, and ap- 
peared to have a bright future before him. We all 
knew the reputation his mother had for doing acts 
of charity to the poor and criminal classes, and it 
seemed as if the influences about him must end in 
his becoming a grand and good man, a pride to 
his parents, and an honor to society. We could 
not see how the son of such a mother .could be 
otherwise. 

“One morning I came down to the store earlier 
than usual, and found the boy bent over a bench 
in the cellar, weeping as if his heart would break. 
It was some time before I could prevail upon him 
to tell me his troubles, and then the poor fellow, 
glad to find a willing ear into which to pour his 
woes, opened his heart to me, and mine bled for 
him at the recital. He was a high-spirited boy, 
and was just entering upon that age when boys 
love to be out in the air, and want to see a little 


CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME 


107 


of what is going on about them. His mother, 
hidebound in her ideas of right and wrong, was 
bound to train him in the paths of rectitude by 
force if necessary. He told me that for years he 
had not known what it was to be allowed to have 
a little time to himself out of doors, for his mother 
insisted upon his remaining at home studying his 
books, or reading dry writings from the pens of 
ecclesiastical humbugs. 

“The night before, his parents had gone out 
early to attend a meeting of some Christian Union, 
and a sudden desire had come over the boy to go 
out for an airing. Nerving himself to the disobe- 
dience, he started out, but was unlucky enough to 
meet the parents as they were returning earlier than 
they had intended. He was caught at once, and 
at the command of the mother, the father had 
taken the boy to his room, and given him an un- 
merciful beating striking him so roughly about the 
head that the cuts still showed. That one beating 
had awakened a wild rebellion in the youth, and 
he swore to me that he would never obey his 
parents again if he could help it, and his future 
history bore out his assertion. 

“He began to drink on the sly, and gradually 


io8 


CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME 


struck the down grade. There was plenty of time 
to reclaim him, but his mother was too busy in 
reclaiming the home heathen, and praying and 
distributing tracts to criminals, to pay much atten- 
tion to him, and he went from bad to worse. It 
was the old story. There is no life so easy to learn 
as that of a profligate and tough. Some years 
afterward I learned that he was an outcast from 
society, and past redemption. That handsome 
face that had given such promise for the man was 
bloated and hardened, and the unmistakable stamp 
of a lost life was upon the whole form. Where 
he will land, heaven alone knows. Perhaps even 
lower than I myself have sunk. 

“The mother went right on in her work. As 
time wore on her continued neglect of her own 
home resulted in a separation between herself and 
her husband, and they are now divorced. You have 
seen her yourself. She was one of the women 
who visited this jail the other day. The lesson is 
a broad one. Had that woman thought less of her 
own aggrandizement in acts of public charity, and 
made a pleasant home for her own boy, he would 
never have gone to the bad. Had she used her 
womanly accomplishments to make her home 


CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME 


109 


pleasant for her husband, that home never would 
have been broken up as it now is. There was a 
case where the saying that charity begins at home 
is more than applicable. 

“Do you honestly believe that in all her career 
of doing good as she fancies she is, she has ever 
saved intact, one home among all the people with 
whom she has labored.^ Do you believe that in 
all her career as a member of several societies 
which are organized to accomplish good by a con- 
stitution and by-laws, she has ever saved from the 
path of crime, one poor boy who had started on 
the path of sin.? I do not think you do, and yet 
just balance her book of life, and see the record 
on the debit side. A home wrecked, a boy ruined, 
and all because she was a crank on righteousness. 
It goes to prove that one may have too much of 
a good thing, and that those who do the most 
good in the world are those who do it for the good 
there is in it, and not for their own emolument, 
and for the purpose of getting their names in the 
papers.” 

“I have no doubt you are right,” said Hector, 
after some reflection. “That woman could have 
done more actual good in her own home.” 


no 


CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME 


“She certainly could, and had she done so, the 
great judge above would not now have charged up 
against her, one ruined life, and that the life of 
her own son/^ 

“I wonder if she ever thinks of that?’’ asked 
Hector. 

“She? Not she,” was the sarcastic reply. “She 
fancies she is one of the elect, and she poses as the 
president of five societies for promoting the good 
of any amount of tough characters. How many 
such women approaching you in the way those did 
the other day, supposing you were a criminal, 
would it take to reform you?” 

“There are not enough of them in the world,” 
cried Hector vehemently, “and the more there 
were, the farther I would be from reformation.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE GRAND HUMBUG. 

There are few people, outside of those connected 
with the legal profession, or the still fewer number 
who have at some time been summoned as wit- 
nesses, who know what a grand jury is, or what it 
really is for. An attorney can probably tell the 
inquisitive one the former, but not even the 
heavenly hosts can in any common sense manner 
inform any one of the latter. A grand jury is one 
of the most nonsensical things that was ever con- 
ceived by some misguided individual. It is a 
number of men, chosen by the lottery system, 
from a large number upon a list which has pre- 
viously been prepared by the judges of a county. 
It is supposed to be conceived for the purpose of 
giving every American or other citizen the broadest 
kind of justice in criminal matters. It comes 
between the police court and the criminal court 
proper, as a sort of purgatory, wherein the sup- 
8 111 


1 12 


THE GRAND HUMBUG 


posed criminal has an opportunity to have his case 
investigated, so that if there has been any injustice 
rendered him in the lower court, that body of men 
can check the injustice by refusing to find an in- 
dictment. How the intent of the constitution 
which creates a grand jury is carried out, will be 
best illustrated by actual occurrances. 

It was one Monday morning, in the district court 
house of the fourth judicial district of Minnesota, 
that the grand jury assembled in the small low 
ceilinged room, which had been built as an addition 
to the old court house. The hallways leading to 
this couit room were tortuous and winding, and 
each of them was well filled with an indiscriminate 
gathering of men, women and children, who had 
been called as witnesses, to give evidence before 
the jury, in cases where men had been accused 
of criminal acts against the state. The majority 
of the people assembled, were a disreputable 
looking lot, and might be easily set down as 
criminals by an observer, but in that he would be 
wrong, for there are no criminals needed there. 
The grand jury hears but one side of a case, and 
the prisoners or accused are never brought before 
that august body. 


THE GRAND HUMBUG II3 

The county attorney and an assistant rushed 
around about the corridors making a list of the 
witnesses, while in another room several police 
officers dozed in chairs, and a quartette of city 
detectives yawned and stretched their massive 
shapes in the last throes of ennui. Judge Bodkin, 
a heavy set man, past middle age, with a fat full 
face and kindly eye, which contradicted the severity 
of his office, mounted the steps to the bench, and 
the court was called to order. The roll of grand 
jurymen was called and Judge Bodkin, in a solemn 
voice delivered that formula, his instructions to 
the grand jury, in which he reminded them of the 
horrible effects of crime upon the community, also 
that gambling and the social evil were vices that 
should both be rooted out, and after swearing them 
in, everybody was excluded from the room with 
the exception of the county attorney and the jury, 
the doors were locked and bolted, a deputy stood 
guard in the hallway several feet distant from the 
door to prevent any close approach to the sacred 
portals, and the work of the most useless body in 
legal history was ready to begin. 

It was a representative jury, and had been care- 
fully selected. There was a representative of 


1 14 THE GRAND HUMBUG 

almost every business in the city, from the capi- 
talist to the money loaner, and from the rural 
districts there were several farmers and country 
store keepers. Possibly about half of the men 
there were gentlemen of more than average intelli- 
gence, and the majority of them were swelled up 
in a most mighty manner over the weight of re- 
sponsibility resting upon them. The county 
attorney pulled his chair up to the long table and, 
suggested the selection of a foreman and a clerk, 
and this matter was soon attended to. Then a 
box of cigars and matches were produced from 
somewhere, they were passed around, the fore- 
man mounted the stairs and took his seat on 
the bench, the cigars were lighted, and the body 
was ready for business. 

Mr. Bramble, the county attorney, was a hust- 
ling man who did not believe in wasting much 
time, so consulting a list he had prepared, he gave 
the name of the accused to the clerk, with the 
nature of his crime, and hustled in the first witness. 
In each case the witness was sworn, took his place 
in the witness-chair, and was questioned by Mr. 
Bramble, any member of the jury however being 
allowed to interpose a question at will, if he 


THE GRAND HUMBUG II5 

thought the county attorney had forgotten some 
salient point. The witnesses were examined one 
at a time, and throughout the forenoon cases were 
disposed of in short order. Several of them had 
been disposed of and indictments found, when in 
the afternoon session it suddenly occurred to a 
thoughtful old gentleman, with a kindly face who 
was a pillar in his church and noted for his charita- 
ble acts, that no witnesses had been present to 
speak a word in favor of any of the accused. 

“I beg your pardon, Mr. County Attorney,” he 
said almost shocked at his own temerity, “but how 
does it come that there are such sure cases against 
these men. If they have no defense at all what 
is the use of wasting all this time upon them.^^ 
Why not shut them up at once.^” 

“You are not quite up to these matters, Mr. 
Brown,” said Mr. Bramble laughing. “You see 
we only examine the witnesses on one side, to see 
if there is a case against a man. We do not 
trouble with any witnesses for the accused.” 

“What.^” was the astonished question. “Don’t 
we give the other side a show.^” 

“Oh, shut up. Brown,” cried a friend ; a pompous 
man in the fresh meat business. “They will have 


THE GRAND HUMBUG 


1 16 

their innings when the case comes to trial/' 

“Well I suppsoe Mr. Bramble knows his busi- 
ness," said Brown, a little dissatisfied, “but I would 
just like to enquire what we are here for then?" 

“Do keep quiet. Brown," cried another. “Life 
is too short to spend too much time here. Let 
the county attorney hustle these matters through 
so that we can finish and get away." 

Brown ceased to complain, and the formula 
went on. Several larceny cases were disposed of 
in a rattling way, a forgery case was settled on the 
testimony of one man, a case of assault in the first 
degree was settled by the testimony of the com- 
plaining witness who looked villainous enough to 
have several dirks and guns concealed upon his 
person, together with that of the policeman who 
made the arrest, and the members of the jury had 
hardly taken any interest in the case. Finally a 
case of an indecent assault upon a young girl was 
called, and the jury suddenly a^^oke to life. 

The county attorney placed the young woman 
on the stand to testify in her own behalf. She 
was a good looking girl, a servant in a respectable 
family, and she was reluctant in telling the details 
of the really disgusting story. She flushed pain- 


THE GRAND HUMBUG 


II7 

fully at the questions put to her, and finally burst 
into tears. She was given time to collect her 
faculties, and the questioning went on. There 
was not a juryman who was not brimming over 
with questions to put to her, and many of them 
were calculated to bring disgusting answers. 
Sometimes a question was filled with levity, and 
a general snicker would be heard. Sometimes a 
sally was made at one of the jurymen by a com- 
panion, through a question, and a loud guffaw of 
laughter would go the rounds. 

There were several witnesses in that case, and 
it took several hours in the hearing, though it 
could have been disposed of in much shorter order. 
The jury wanted to be amused however, and was 
not particular as to the way it was done. In a 
case of assault against a negro, the keeper of a 
gilded mansion was called as a witness, and the 
fun commenced again. A juryman was foolish 
enough to ask her to more fully describe the loca- 
tion of the room, which was a portion of the 
scene of the crime. The woman looked at him 
sharply for a moment, and with a coarse laugh 
had an answer ready. 

“You ought to know well enough, Mr. Weeks, 


tHE GRAND HUMBUG 


iig 

she cried, pointing her hand at him. “You have 
been there often enough yourself.’^ 

Weeks subsided, and took off his spectacles to 
wipe them furiously to hide his confusion, while 
a roar of laughter went around the room. 

“Perhaps it would be a good thing for the jury 
to visit the scene of the occurrence, in order to 
familiarize itself with the location,*^ said the fore- 
man, at which dry stroke of wit, there was another 
laugh, which distracted attention from the unfort- 
unate Weeks. 

“The state against John Doe, is next,” said the 
county attorney after the other case had been 
finished. He went out after the principal witness, 
and came back with the assertion that it would 
be necessary to wait a short time, as the witness 
had not yet arrived. Somebody produced a pack 
of cards, and while the men were waiting, a game 
of “seven up” was in progress. It was not quite 
finished when the witness was brought in, but the 
game went on accompanied with the examination, 
none of the participants hearing a word of the 
testimony, until it was almost over. 

“This John Doe,” began the county attorney, 
“who by the way refuses to give his name, as you 


THE GRAND HUMBUG II9 

will perceive by the name upon his papers, is, I 
am told, one of the most desperate criminals the 
police have captured for some time, and the chief 
of police is quite elated over his capture. He has 
been guilty of crimes without number throughout 
the country, and has escaped capture until now. 
I have sworn the first witness in his case.’’ 

The jury looked up with added interest as a 
rather fine looking dark haired man with piercing 
black eyes took the stand. 

“Your name is Thomas H. Dennison, I believe,” 
was the question. 

“Yes sir.” 

“Where do you reside, Mr. Dennison.?” 

“At 424 Washington avenue.” 

“City of Minneapolis, county of Hennepin, state 
of Minnesota.?” 

“Yes.” 

“You may go on Mr. Dennsion, and tell in your 
own language what occurred on the night of your 
little trouble with the accused.” 

Dennison was a rapid talker, and seemed to 
have his story pat, for he rattled it off quite rapidly 
and without prompting, telling the story of the 
robbery as it had appeared in the newspapers of 


120 


THE GRAND HUMBUG 


the day after the occurrence. After he had fin- 
ished, he was shown a thick red morocco pocket- 
book filled with bills. 

‘4s this the pocket-book, and the money that 
was taken from you on that night?” 

“It is. Yes.” 

“This is good and genuine money of the issue of 
the United States of America, is it not?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

No one wished to question him further, and he 
was told to step down. As he did so he whispered 
to the county attorney, asking if he could take his 
money with him. He was informed that it would 
have to remain in the hands of the officer of the 
county until the trial was over, and he departed 
much dissatisfied. 

James Brigham, a man who said he was in the 
stock business was examined, and said that he had 
paid Dennison $9,585 the day of the assault, in 
return for a large number of cattle he had bought 
from him. He had seen the money placed in the 
pocket book, The officers at the station were 
examined as to the man’s actions when he came 
to the station. There was little said until it came 
the turn of the jailer to testify. He told of the 


THE GRAND HUMBUG 


I2I 


surly actions of the prisoner, and how he had 
struck the witness when a search had been at- 
tempted. 

“What is your opinion, in regard to the actions 
of prisoners when they are brought in.!^” asked 
Juryman Brown. “Do they generally make such 
a disturbance 

“Well, to tell you the truth sir, replied the 
man honestly, “unless they are drunk, the real 
criminal is as meek as a lamb, and will hold up his 
hands to be searched, as if he had been there be- 
fore. I never saw one act like this one before.” 

“I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” said Brown, 
“but I am curious in this matter, and want to ask 
a few questions. What in your opinion, Mr. Jailer , 
is the action of a criminal when he finds that he 
is arrested. You have had much cause to judge.” 

“Well sir, if you ask my opinion, I can say that 
in all my experience, the real criminal takes it 
much as if the jig was up with him, and he had 
better make the best of it. Sometimes they are 
surly, but they never fight. They know better. 
That’s why I tell the fellows that this fellow isn’t 
an old bird. He would know better than to give 
himself the worst of it. I wish you could feel the 
weight of his fist though. He is a corker.” 


122 


THE GRAND HUMBUG 


“Then in your opinion,” continued Brown, “this 
man does not act like the man they say he is.” 

“Well, no sir, not exactly. You see he looked 
as proud as a peacock when we held him up at the 
station, and just looked on us as if he owned the 
earth, but had lost some of the fences. Did you 
ever see a man when he got his sentence I have 
seen hundreds of them, and if they break into 
tears and cry like babies, you can bet your boots 
that they are guilty. Sometimes I think that 
perhaps a man has been found guilty by a jury in 
mistake, and I always watch that man, and if he 
cries before the judge, I throw up my hands, and 
think it’s all right. The man who is unjustly 
condemned, just thinks the world is against him, 
and he holds his head up, and drags down his 
brows, and scowls on everything.” 

“Opinions seem to differ here,” remarked jury- 
man Brown, after the jailor had left the room, and 
he looked about at the faces of his confreres as if 
he had accomplished the act of his life. 

“Oh, hang the jailer’s opinion,” cried the money 
loaner, “what’s your vote on the indictment i^” 
“Oh, I suppose it will have to be found,” cried 
Brown in a dissatisfied voice. “I would like to 


THE GRAND HUMBUG 


123 


hear what the other fellow says though, and exam- 
ine some of his witnesses.’* 

^‘You can be present at the trial,” said the 
county attorney. “It is the clearest case I ever 
had come before me.” 

“These fellers who attack citizens of this great 
republic,” said the old farmer on the upper seat, 
stroking his retuse chin whiskers reflectively, while 
he glanced askance at the fat pocket book still 
lying at the county attorney’s hand, “and robs 
them of their money, must be punished to the full 
extent of the law.” 

“They must,” was the chorus, while the farmer 
beamed upon the crowd. 

“There is another side to that question,” said 
Brown, rising from his chair and stretching him- 
self. “It lies in the proverb, ^He who steals my 
purse, steals trash. But he who steals my good 
name, takes that which in no way benefits him, 
and makes me poor indeed. ’ It’s something like 
that any way, and it’s good logic, grand jury or no 
grand jury.” 

“All of which, charge up to Shakespeare,” cried 
some one, and the jury adjourned for the day. 


CHAPTER X. 


man’s inhumanity to man. 

One bright September morning, a full week after 
the grand jury had first assembled, there was an 
unusual commotion among the prisoners at the 
county jail. It was one of those beautiful morn- 
ings which the early autumn presents to humanity, 
so intense in its beauty that some little of the 
golden tint of the outside world struggled in be- 
tween the steel bars of the high windows, and sent 
a few broken sunbeams scattering about the high 
hall, each one of which seemed to pale or be startled 
into shadow by the misery of the surroundings. 
The reason for the commotion was that the pris- 
oners had been informed the day before that the 
grand jury was likely to conclude its labors, and 
they might be brought before the judge to plead in 
cases where indictments had been found, while in 
others the poor unfortunates would be allowed to 
go. Every face peered eagerly forth from the cage 
124 


man’s inhumanity to man 125 

corridor as the key grated in the lock, and the 
door to the watch cage swung on its steel hinges to 
admit the jailer. 

There were some remarks of levity hurled at 
him by some of the prisoners as he mounted the 
steps, to which he made the most appropriate 
answers possible under the circumstances. He 
called out several names, standing at the cage 
door, and the men called stepped forward, among 
them the young boy who had been imprisoned for 
the crime another had committed. The grand 
jury had met and finished its work, and had found 
that he was entitled to that which an American 
loves dearer than life, that for which the fore- 
fathers of every American had fought for; his 
liberty. The law had kept him in prison unjustly, 
but when that heavy machinery had completed its 
course, it did him the justice to liberate him before 
any of the others were dealt with. 

Three of them went out together, too excited 
over their coming liberty to hardly cast a thought 
on those left behind. As the door closed behind 
them, the forger who had spoken to Hector once 
before, touched him on the shoulder. 

“You see the two young men going out together, 


126 


man’s inhumanity to man 


with the older one/^ he said. ‘‘The story of one 
of them you know; but do you happen to know 
how it is that they both are let out at the same 
instant?” 

“I suppose they have been found to be innocent, 
or at least that there was no charge substantiated 
in their case,” was the reply. 

“Substantiated, bosh,” was the ejaculation “A 
grand jury is a matter of form. The only cases 
that are not substantiated with them, are those 
which are brought first to them, in person. In all 
cases that are brought to them from the police 
court, they invariably find cases. No, that other 
young fellow was brought to this jail the day after 
your acquaintance to serve out a sentence. He 
was indicted for burglary by the former grand jury, 
and pleaded guilty. He was advised to do so by 
his attorney, who had succeeded in getting him 
out pending his trial, on bail. The judge sen- 
tenced him to a term in the county jail, the light- 
est he could give, in consideration of his extreme 
youth, and his plea, and the result has been, that 
the guilty young man and the innocent one, have 
in fact served exactly the same time of imprison- 
ment. And that is justice, pure and simple. 


man’s inhumanity to man 127 

founded on what is known as common law. Oh! 
for the days that will come some time in the 
future, of uncommon law. Let us hope they will 
come soon.” 

“It is shocking,” cried Hector, “but are these 
cases not uncommon Although an injustice has 
been done me, I am not one to condemn the whole 
system, for a few mistakes.” 

“No, they are not isolated cases, as you may 
think,” was the earnest reply, as the forger seated 
himself and proceeded. “There is another case 
worthy of note, even as I speak.” 

The forger pointed as he spoke, to the floor 
below, where a form was seen stretched upon a 
cot, which was being carried out of the place by 
two men in uniform. 

“Is the man dead?” asked Hector, a chill passing 
over him. Death was a terrible thing in any event, 
but in that place of terror, it assumed a shape 
doubly ghastly. 

“No, not dead,” was the reply in a solemn tone, 
“but he soon will be unless the purer air of the 
hospital should prove beneficial to his case. Now 
what crime do you suppose that man is guilty of.^ 
It must be something terrible, must it not, to re- 
sult in such a probable end?” 


9 


128 


man’s inhumanity to man 


“I should certainly judge so,” was Hector’s re- 
ply, as he watched the door close after the group. 

“I know his case well, for I was confined near 
him before I was moved to this upper tier. That 
man was a workman, who by the utmost energy 
and toil, managed to keep the wolf from the door 
of a family consisting of a wife and two children, 
a boy and a girl. I have seen them on some of 
their visits to him here in the jail. The wife is a 
pale little woman, and the children are as bright 
little ones as it has ever been my lot to behold. 
His history in crime is a short one. A servant 
girl who had worked for the family for over a 
year, got into trouble, and the result was that she 
was delivered of a child. She accused this man 
of being its parent; the deed being done during 
the temporary absence of the wife. He was held 
to the grand jury and indicted and convicted on 
the sole and unsupported testimony of that girl. 

‘^Great God! no,” cried Hector. “No jury, at 
least no intelligent jury, would convict on unsuppor- 
ted testimony,” 

“Wait, and hear me,” was the answer, given with 
a slight sneer, “and in the meantime remember that 
the intelligent jury is a myth, and in connection 


man’s inhumanity to man 129 

with that, I remember that a court reporter 
for a daily paper once printed the result of a 
verdict, and gave it to the wrong party. An at- 
torney twitted him with the fact, and finished by 
the statement that it was the first time justice had 
been done, and that was not on the records. To 
resume, his case was tried, and the defense proved 
by three women, that at the time the girl was con- 
fined she had told them that another man was the 
party to blame for her misfortune. It was shown 
that she had often come home late with that same 
man to the house, and at about the proper time to 
make the defense good. One of the children of 
the man swore positively in direct opposition to 
testimony the girl had given as to circumstances 
connected with one of the specified times, and it 
was shown that the first man accused had left the 
city in haste and could not be found. In direct 
opposition to the testimony, the intelligent jury 
you speak of, found the man guilty. Why man, 
if they had proved that the cause occurred, they 
had not proved the paternity. 

“The man was sentenced to pay so much per 
month for the support of the child, and was re- 
quired to furnish a bond that he would perform the 


130 man’s inhumanity to man 

obligation, or he was to remain in jail until he did 
so. He has no friends with real property, and 
could procure no bonds, so he had remained here 
ever since. He was never very well, and his 
unjust confinement has laid him low. They are 
taking him to the hospital now. God knows how 
long he will live there. 

‘Ht is horrible that such things should be in this 
century of progression,^^ cried Hector. “It might 
have been possible during the evil times in the 
old country, but it is horrible to contemplate it as 
being the existing state of things in America.” 

“And yet you ask if they are not uncommon 
cases. I tell you they are so common, that there 
is not a term of the criminal court that does not 
see one or more of them.” 

There was no time for further conversation, for 
the jailer was again at the door, and the names 
of several were called, among them those of Hector 
and the forger. They stepped forward and with 
the little party filed out of the jail. At the office 
a pair of handcuffs were sprung about the wrists 
of Hector and his companion and they were linked 
together in bonds of steel. The heavy oaken door 
swung open, and the next moment they stood in 


man’s inhumanity to man I 31 

the golden September sunlight of morning, so 
brilliant by contrast to the somber hues of the jail, 
that they could hardly see. Hector drank in the 
pure air, and saw the visible signs of freedom 
which threw his mind almost into a frenzy. 

It was but an area way between the jail and the 
court house, and it took them but a moment to 
traverse it, but in that short moment he saw the. 
street with its border of waving trees, and the 
hurrying people, happy in their freedom. A 
group of little children were at play, and their 
shrill childish laughter jarred upon him like a 
mockery. No one looked at them, and they were 
closed in again as the door to the court house 
swung to, and they mounted the stairs. 

The court-room was well filled with a motley 
crowd. There were the numerous friends of 
various criminals, and several of the prosecuting 
witnesses, gathered to take what satisfaction they 
could in seeing their assailants arraigned. There 
were also present any number of seedy looking 
attorneys who invariably gather on days of arraign- 
ment for the purpose of having themselves ap- 
pointed to try the only cases they ever were fortu- 
nate enough to have a brief in. High up on the bench 


132 man’s inhumanity to man 

sat the judge, honest of purpose, and in no wise 
responsible for the injustice the law compelled him 
to perform. The whole atmosphere was one of 
repressed moral unhealthiness and unclean odors. 

Hector sank into a seat, while the eyes of the 
attorneys sparkled at the prospective rich harvest. 
He felt like one in a dream. The imprisonment 
had somwhat broken his proud spirit, and he 
could not even resent by a frown, his present 
position. He felt the cold perspiration spring to 
his brow, and he reached for a handkerchief for- 
getting that he had long ago ceased to carry one. 
Then he became aware that he was handcuffed to 
the man next to him, and that man a forger. 
His face flushed painfully, and instinctively he 
scanned the crowd to see if his disgrace was 
noticed. No one was watching him especially. 
The sight was a common one there. One by one 
the batch of accused men were called up before 
the judge, and made their plea. The turn of the 
forger came, and the handcuffs were unlocked. 
He plead guilty as he had promised, and he was 
remanded for sentence. Then it came Hector’s 
turn. 

He arose mechanically at the call of the name 


MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN 


133 


of John Doe, after it had been repeated several 
times. He had forgotten that such was the name 
used for him. Then he stood before the bar of 
justice, while his indictment was read, and he was 
handed a copy. He fumbled it mechanically. 

^Hs that your true name.?” questioned the clerk, 
referring to the name on the indictment. 

“No,” was the reply, while he felt every eye in 
the room upon him. 

“What is your true name.?” asked the court. 

“It does not matter,” was the reply. 

“What does the prisoner plead .?” asked the judge. 

“I have said it so many times,” was the little 
burst of sarcasm, “that it seems almost superfluous, 
lam not guilty.” 

“Have you an attorney.?” asked the court. 

“No. None.” 

“Have you any means to procure one.?” 

“None.” 

“Would you like to have the court appoint you 
one.?” 

“I suppose so. In that at least this court is more 
just than the lower one.” 

“Mr. Trickle, will you take this case.?” asked the 
judge, addressing a red nosed individual with 


134 man’s inhumanity to man 

hungry eyes who stood near, the picture of unsuc- 
cessful want. 

Mr. Trickle, thus addressed, tripped lightly over 
to the side of Hector, and took the copy of the 
indictment from his hand. In a whisper he asked 
the prisoner to state his case briefly, so that he 
might judge what course to pursue. Hector told 
him as briefly as possible what he could say, and 
what the other side would swear to. Mr. Trickle 
smiled insidiously. 

“Not much of a case for you,” he whispered. 
“They have a sure case against you, and you have 
no defense. How would temporary insanity do? 
Ever had insanity in your family.?” 

“No.” 

“No insanity, eh.? That’s bad. You haven’t 
any friends who would swear for you, have you, 
so we can fix up a case.?” 

“None. My only chance is to find two men who 
saw me have that money, and I don’t know where 
they are.” 

“That’s bad. Uncommon bad all around. I 
don’t see my way clear. Hadn’t you better plead 
guilty, now. I will plead for you with the judge, 
and he’ll make it light,” and the pettifogger smiled 


man’s inhumanity to man 135 

pleasantly upon the accused, as if it was the most 
inviting prospect imaginable. His pay would be 
the same in any case. 

“No. I do not intend to plead .guilty, being 
innocent. I will take my chance, no matter how 
black it looks. I am the victim of an injustice, 
and I might as well go to the end of the dark path 
mapped out for me by an unkind providence.” 

“Oh, all right,” cried Trickle in a chipper man- 
ner as he folded up the paper and put it in his 
pocket. “I’ll call on you in the jail to-morrow 
and we’ll see what we can do.” 

“When will you have this case set for, Mr. 
County Attorney asked the court. 

“Make it October fourteenth,” was the answer, 
and the prisoner was led back to his cell with 
more than another month of confinement awaiting 
him, pending his trial, and the last words ringing 
in his ears, “We will fix the bail in this matter at 
two thousand dollars.” 


CHAPTER XL 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR. 

The weary days followed each other so slowly 
that to the imprisoned man it seemed as if he had 
been behind the bars a year since that day when 
he had faced the judge and pleaded in his case. The 
day after, he had received a visit from his attor- 
ney, Mr. Trickle, but that worthy did not appear 
to be able to do much for him. In the eyes of this 
legal light, his client was guilty, and was not con- 
fidential enough to put him in possession of actual 
facts, that he might frame some sort of defense. 
Hector tried to have the attorney make an effort 
to find the two men who had seen him with the 
money before the night of the crime, and who were 
on their way to Dakota, but as he could not pro- 
duce any money for the purpose of advertising in 
the papers, or obtaining word from them in any 
way, that portion of the defense was dropped. 

After that one visit, Mr. Trickle paid no more 
136 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR I 37 

attention to his client. This did no, worry 
Hector, for he had already conceived a pro- 
found contempt for the man, and had as good 
as given up any hope from him. Trickle had in- 
formed him that in spite of the fact that his case 
was a bad one, there was no telling what a jury 
would do, and even in the face of strong facts 
against him, might deliver what he termed a ver- 
dict sympathetic, which was in fact a verdict of 
not guilty out of pure sympathy to the accused. 
It would much depend upon whether the county 
attorney felt like making a strong talk to the jury. 
This was small satisfaction however to a high 
spirited man, to whom any mitigation short of an 
absolute dismissal would be a punishment. 

During the month which passed before his trial. 
Hector had the whole panorama of crime for one 
term pass before him. His was almost the last 
case on the calendar, and one by one the others 
were disposed of. The outcome of each case be- 
came the one excitement in the jail, and the more 
hardened ones laid wagers with each other, as to 
how each would come out, whether the prisoner 
would be aquitted, or the extent of the sentence 
in case of a conviction. The first case was that 


138 THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 

of the forger who had entered a plea of guilty. He 
was given three years at hard labor, and was then 
brought back to his cell to pass one night before 
his removal to the state’s prison. 

“It is all over,^’ said he to Hector as he passed 
him in the corridor. “It was a pretty heavy dose, 
but perhaps it will get the whisky out of me, and 
give me a chance to become a better man.” 

“I wish you knew how sorry I am for you,” said 
Hector. 

“You will have an opportunity to prove it,” 
cried the man. “My wife (choking a little) and 
children will be left alone, and in want. It may 
be that you will not escape from here yourself, 
but I want you to promise me that in case you do, 
and you are able to help them, that you will do 
so.” 

“With all my heart,” was the hearty reply. “If 
I am ever in a position to make life easier for them 
until you can return to help them yourself, I will 
do so.” 

“God bless you,” cried the forger, and he grasped 
Hector’s hand in both is own, while the scalding 
tears fell from his eyes upon the clasped hands of 
the two, sealing the promise in the brine of heart- 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 


139 


felt repentance. The forger hastily wrote a nanae 
and address upon a scrap of the margin of a news- 
paper, and handed it to his companion. Then he 
passed slowly into his cage, and flung himself upon 
his cot. The next morning he was taken away 
under guard, to the penitentiary. 

Through some misunderstanding a sad scene was 
presented to the prisoner. The wife and children 
of the self-convicted man came to the jail the next 
morning, and the jailer admitted them upon the 
order from the sheriff, without looking at the name 
of the man they had come to see. He had admit- 
ted them before, and did not stop to think. The 
heart-broken trio entered the cage room, and 
slowly mounted the stairs to the barred door. 
Arrived there the poor woman supported her 
trembling form by clinging to the bars, while she 
called feebly for her husband. She had come to 
see him once before the black walls of the prison 
should close him from her sight. Then while 
waiting for him, she bowed her tender face, until 
the cheek was indented by the cruel bars. 

Hector was close by at the time, and approach- 
ing, spoke to her softly. She looked up wearily. 

‘‘My husband, ’’ she said. “Where is he.^ He 
is not ill?’’ 


140 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 


“No, my poor lady,’^ said Hector sadly, “he is 
not ill. He expected you last evening. They 
took him to prison this morning.’^ 

The wife stared at him vacantly for an instant, 
while the full import of his words gradually came 
to her troubled mind, then without a word the thin 
fingers loosened their clasp upon the irons, and 
the frail form fell in a heap upon the cold sheet- 
iron of the floor. The children set up a loud wail, 
and the eldest flung herself upon the silent form 
of the mother. 

“Oh! Mamma! Mamma!” was the wail. “My 
mamma is dead,” and the little form shook with 
the sobs which came from the poor half-starved 
little one. 

Hector called loudly to the jailers, and they came 
running to the scene. With not unkindly hands 
they carried the poor wife to the office, and gave 
her every care their rude hands could prepare. 
Truly the judge had told the truth when he had 
delivered sentence. The blow might be hard for 
the criminal, but it came doubly hard to the inno- 
cent victims. The law must punish the offender, 
which was just, even though the innocent must 
bear the brunt of the expiation of the crime. 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR I4I 

Alas poor wife. Through years of suffering and 
hardship she had clung to the man whom she had 
vowed to keep in sickness and in health, and now 
the sore heart must bear up under the shame, and 
try to keep in the minds of those poor children, 
one green spot for the memory of the father, and 
guard them from the shame of his punishment. 
Why is it that the unworthy men win such jewels 
of constancy, while the noble ones mate with 
women who would be fit companions for the others.^ 

The day for the trial came at last, and again the 
door of the cage swung open, and Hector was led 
down the stairs and through the watch cage, then 
down the iron stairs outside and into the jail office. 
Here a surprise awaited him. The patrol wagon 
from the lockup had just driven up, and a young 
man, scarcely more than a boy was led into the 
jail. His hat was pulled over his eyes but the 
jailer tipped it back on the head, and smiled in 
recognition. 

“Back here again, are you?” was the greeting. 

Hector turned, and saw the young fellow who 
had been jailed for three months for the crime he 
did not commit, awaiting the action of the grand 
jury to release him. He had taken advantage of 


142 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 


the instruction in crime given him by the criminal 
he had taken a fancy to in the jail, and he had 
been caught in the act of picking a lady’s pocket. 
This time it was a genuine case, and he was a 
criminal at. last. A criminal manufactured by the 
grand jury system, and turned loose upon the 
community. The boy braved the sally of the 
jailer, but flushed painfully at the reproving look 
of Hector. 

“I got caught, that’s all pardner,'’ he said in ex- 
planation, looking down, and shuffling one foot 
nervously on the floor. ‘H didn’t practice long 
enough afore I tried it on in earnest. ’Twas all 
my fault.” 

Hector had no time to answer, for he was hur- 
ried again to the court room to stand his trial for 
the heaviest charge that could be made, except 
that of taking the life of a fellow creature. Much 
to his surprise he was not taken to the small 
criminal room where the cases were usually tried. 
The fact was that the newspapers had made so 
much of his case that a crowd of morbid sight- 
seers had gathered and the room was found too 
small to hold them, so the case had been trans- 
ferred into the large court-room, which was well 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 1 43 

fil^d. There was no time lost in getting to work. 
Ths beginning of a trial is the one quick step the 
law takes. Mr. Bramble was seated at one side 
of a long table covered with green oil cloth, and 
at the other Mr. Trickle sat with his legs crossed 
and his chest swelled out to quite huge proportions 
for so small a man. It was a great day for him. 
He had never had^a case filled with so much inter- 
est to the public, and he resolved that he would 
make himself as much seen and heard as possible. 

“Call the jury in the case of the State versus 
John Doe, Mr. Clerk,” said the judge. “Would 
you prefer having it called as a body, or will you 
call them one by one.^” 

“One at a time, if it please the court,” was the 
answer of Mr. Trickle, as he arose to his feet and 
took in the crowd, paying no attenion to the 
prisoner who had been given a seat behind him, 
and on the opposite side of the table to Dennison, 
the complaining witness. 

“Homer Brown,” called the clerk. 

Mr. Brown, a mild faced man, evidently a well- 
to-do merchant, took a seat in the jury box. 

“Mr. Brown,” said Trickle, stepping before the 
juror, and holding a paper in front of him with 
10 


144 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 


one hand, which he read while he elevated his 
coat tails with the other, “this is an action of the 
State of Minnesota against John Doe, brought 
under the indictment I now read to you. “John 
Doe is accused by the grand jury of the county of 
Hennepin in the state of Minnesota by this in- 
dictment, of the crime of grand larceny in the first 
degree, committed as follows. The said John Doe 
did on the 12th day of June A. D. 1892 at the 
city of Minneapolis in the county of Hennepin, 
wilfully, unlawfully, wrongfully, feloniously and 
maliciously, without excuse or justification, and 
without authority of law, on a public highway of 
the said city of Minneapolis, namely. Fourth St. 
North take from the person of one Thomas H, Den- 
nison, by force and the use of a cane of wood 
forcibly applied upon the head of the said Denni- 
son, said cane of wood being in the hand of said 
defendant, with such force as to render the said 
Dennison unsconcious, a pocket-book containing 
$9>500, lawful money of the United States of 
America, with the intent then and there to deprive 
the said Dennison of the possession of said pocket- 
book and said $9,500 lawful money of the United 
States of America. Contrary to the statute in 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 


145 


such case made and provided and against the 
peace and dignity of the State of Minnesota. Mr. 
Brown, do you know anything about this case.^’^’ 
Mr. Brown had read of it in the newspapers. 
He was challenged for actual bias, and the county 
attorney examined him, and excused him when he 
answered that he had perhaps formed an opinion 
at the time of reading the article, as any intelligent 
man would do. Five more fairly intelligent men 
were called one after the other, and were excused 
for the same reason. 

Ole Olson was called. He had never heard of 
the case. Never read the newspapers, for the very 
good reason that he couldn’t read. Nobody had 
ever read the case to him. He was accepted by 
Mr. Trickle, and Mr. Bramble examined him. He 
had come to this county fourteen months since, 
from Sweden. Asked to show proofs that he was 
qualified as a juror, he didn’t understand. 

‘‘Have you your naturalization papers.?^’ 

“Yaas, aye tank day is haar,” and the man 
beamed all over his flushed face as he took from 
his pocket a greasy folded paper, and handed it 
to the questioner, who looked it over. 

“If the court pleases I challenge this man for 


146 THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 

general disqualification. This is his first paper, 
showing his declaration to become a citizen, taken 
out but five weeks ago.” 

“Is it properly attested.^” asked the court. 

“It is,” was the reply, “but there is no proof 
here that he has ever been naturalized.” 

“There is proof that he has declared his inten- 
tion to become a citizen, which is sufficient to 
make him a juror,” said the court. 

“Please note an exception to the ruling of the 
court,” said Trickle, and the first juror was sworn 
to try the case. 

Charles Patterson was sworn to make true an- 
swers as to his qualifications as a juror. He was 
a railway clerk. Had read of the case in the 
newspapers, and formed a slight opinion. Chal- 
lenged by the defendant. Stated that his opinion 
was one which evidence could easily change, either 
way if it was produced during the trial of the case. 
Asked if he knew defendant’s counsel, stated that 
he did not, and knew no reason why he could not 
try the case intelligently. The state accepted 
him, the court denied defendant’s challenge, and 
defendant therefore was rid of an intelligent juror 
by the first of the five peremptory challenges 
allowed the defense. 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 


147 


Kris Schneider called as a juror never had read 
of the case nor heard of it, because he did not 
read English. He did not think he could serve on 
the case because he was not very familiar with the 
English language. 

“How long have you been in this country was 
asked. 

“Swei year, sex mont.” 

“Have you taken out you declaratory papers.^” 

“Vat ish das.^^’^ 

“Your citij^en papers. Have you had papers to 
vote?’^ 

“Oh! yah. Ich haf das all right.” 

The same form was gone over in regard to the 
papers, and the exception noted as before. The 
state challenged the man as generally incompetent 
to serve as he did not understand enough of the 
English language. The defense did not admit the 
challenge, and the court put a few questions. 

“Do you understand the duty which devolves 
upon a juror 

“Oh! yah. I know dot. 

“You may tell us what it is*” 

“Wei, ich stay mit de court house in, und de 
lawyer mans makes him de case oud, und das ist 
swei dollar day.” 


148 THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 

The challenged was denied, and the man was 
sworn as a juror to try the case. 

The selecting of the jury went on until late in 
the afternoon, becoming tedious in the extreme, 
with the repetition of questions. Finally, after 
twenty-eight of the panel had been examined, 
the last man was sworn as a juror. The result 
of that long squabble was, that every intelligent 
business man, capable of understanding evidence 
with one or two possible exceptions, had been 
excused, and the jury was composed for the most 
part of aliens, many of them not entitled to vote 
even under the lax election laws of this state, which 
did not require citizenship, and the balance ignor- 
ant men whose puerility of brain showed in the 
vacant stare of their faces. The most intelligent 
man on the jury was a negro barber, who had 
been out of the city at the time of the committing 
of the deed, and had just returned home. 

It is safe to say that not three of the men sitting 
on the trial of the case w^ere capable of under- 
standing the oath administered to them when they 
stood up and held up their right hands to be sworn. 
The case was opened by the state, Mr. Bramble 
delivering a highly colored talk upon the duty of 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 


149 


the community in protecting its citizens from s ch 
acts of highway robbery as that which had been 
committed, and by the time he was through, each 
member of that jury was scowling upon the accused, 
and had him already convicted. At the close of 
the presentation, Thomas H. Dennison was called, 
and the trial commenced. 


CHAPTER XIL 


TRIED BY HIS PEERS. 

Mr. Dennison had evidently been upon the 
witness stand before, for he proceeded directly to 
the front of the clerk’s desk to be sworn, and gave 
his initials to the stenographer before stepping 
upon the dais and seating himself in the witness 
chair. He was thoroughly at home, and perfectly 
self-possessed; acting somewhat as if it was all 
very much of a bore, and the sooner it was over 
the better he would like it. The county attorney 
had him tell his story over again, as he had presented 
it before the grand jury, except that he went into 
it more fully. He then was handed the money 
and pocket-book, and asked to identify them. He 
swore to the money because he remembered that 
it was done up in bank packages, one of $5,000, 
four of $1,000 and the balance in loose bills. Mr. 
Bramble did not keep him long, as he was practi- 
cally sure of his case, and did not wish to take any 
150 


TRIED BY HIS PEERS 


ISI 

more of the time of the court than was necessary. 

Mr. Trickle cleared his throat with considerable 
gusto as he drew a sheet of paper toward him, and 
poised a pencil. His white eyes assumed a severe 
look as he pinned the witness to the back of the 
dirty wall with his glance metaphorically speaking, 
and proceeded to follow in the lines of cross 
questioning laid down by some illustrious pre- 
decessor, and followed by all the attorneys past 
and present; in an attempt to make the witness 
contradict himself, by putting the same questions 
he had answered before, in all sorts of shapes, in 
the hope of mixing him up. The witness was cool 
and careful and, in spite of the fact that the sput- 
tering Trickle worked himself into a rage, and 
browbeat the witness unmercifully he did not suc- 
ceed in his purpose. 

“Is it not a fact,’^ cried the little attorney, “that 
you have been charged with a crime yourself. 

“I object,’^ cried the prosecuting attorney. “The 
witness is not obliged to incriminate himself, nor 
would it be material in this case. It is an attempt 
to get questions before the jury for the purpose of 
prejudicing their minds. The attorney knows they 
will not be admitted, and I ask your honor 


152 TRIED BY HIS PEERS 

to caution the attorney on the other side.” 

“Objection sustained,” said the court, “and the 
counseler will not repeat any such questions.” 

“You say, Mr. Dennison, that you can swear to 
that pocket-book as being the same one you lost.^” 

“Yes sir, I can.” 

“Are you willing to swear that there was never 
another pocket book like it — exactly like it .^” 

“Well, I don’t know, I — ” 

“Answer my question please,” cried Trickle 
fiercely. “Is it so or is it not.^” 

“Oh, I object,” said Mr. Bramble. “It is in 
reference to a conclusion, and is incompetent.” 

“Objection sustained,” said the court. 

“Exception, please,” cried Trickle. “You say 
you recognize this defendant sitting behind me, as 
your assailant of that night. Now is it not possi- 
ble that you are mistaken.^” 

“I don’t think so. Of course he looks thinner 
than he did then, but that might be from his con- 
finement.” 

“Never mind what it might be. I move the last 
part of that answer be striken out,” cried Trickle. 

“The reporter may strike it out,” said the court. 

“Now I will ask you, Mr. Dennison, if it is not 


TRIED BY HIS PEERS 


153 


possible that there may be another man so nearly 
resembling this one, that you may be mistaken in 
your assertion that he is the same man who robbed 
you?’’ 

“Well, I—” 

“Hold on,” cried Mr. Bramble. “I object to 
the question on the same grounds as the former 
one; that it is asking the witness to draw a con- 
clusion, and is incompetent.” 

“Objection sustained,” said the court. 

“Note an exception,” said Trickle. 

“Yes,” from the court. 

Mr. Dennison was called down from the stand, 
and Officer Rafferty was sworn. There was a 
slight wait while the deputy was called to awaken a 
juror who had fallen asleep during the legal battle, 
and then the trial was resumed after a reproof from 
the court. 

The officer testified to the arrest of the prisoner, 
and the search, in which the stolen property was 
found in his possession, secreted in the inner vest 
pocket. He identified the prisoner, the pocket- 
book, and the cane, without hesitation. 

“You may state what occurred when you dis- 
covered the witness Dennison,” said the prosecu- 
ting attorney. 


154 


TRIED BY HIS PEERS 


“Well, I saw him lying there against the fence, 
and making as if he would try to get up, and then 
I helped him on his feet. He was bleeding from 
the cut on his head, and it was several minutes 
before he was able to speak to me. I asked 
him what was the matter, and he said a fellow had 
held him up and — 

“Hold on! hold on” shouted Trickle waving his 
arms wildly. “I object to anything that was said 
when the defendant was not present.” 

“Objection sustained,” from the court. 

“How can I tell the whole truth and nothing 
but the truth then,” said the witness a trifle nettled, 
“if I can’t be let alone 

“Never mind that,” said the prosecuting attor- 
ney. “Go on with your story.” 

“Well, we took the witness to the station, and 
then went out looking for the man he described. 
We found him at the St. James hotel, and brought 
him down to the station where he was searched.” 

“Did the prisoner make any statement when you 
searched him?” 

“Not by word of mouth, no,” said the officer, 
smiling broadly, “but he knocked Mike Bradly 
down.” 


TRIED BY HIS PEERS 


155 


A more than audible titter went around the room, 
at the expense of Bradly, who laughed softly and 
good-naturedly at his own expense, and the deputy 
rapped loudly for order in the court-room. 

“If the audience is not quiet, the court will 
order the sheriff to clear the room,” said the judge. 

Then Trickle took the witness for cross exami- 
nation. 

“You are a police officer of the city of Minne- 
apolis.?” was the query. 

“Yes sir, for fifteen years.” 

“You have arrested many people, have you not?” 

“You bet I have, and some hard ones too.” 

“Well Mr. Officer Rafferty, I will ask you, if 
in your long experience, you never arrested the 
wrong man?” 

“Objected to,” cried Bramble. “It is leading; 
puts the witness in the position of an expert; is 
not the best evidence, as the police court records 
show' for themselves, and for the further reason 
that it is incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.” 

“’Jection ’stained,” said the court sleepily. 

“Mr. Rafferty, will you take oath, that the man 
sitting behind me, is the one you arrested that 
night?” 


156 


TRIED BY HIS PEERS 


“Yes sir, I will.’^ 

“You are sure of that? You couldn’t be mis- 
taken?’^ 

“No sir, 1 couldn’t.” 

“You noticed him particularly, to see if you had 
ever had your hands on him before, didn’t you?” 

“Yes sir, I did.” 

Here Mr. Trickle held up a paper suddenly be- 
fore the face of the defendant, and put the ques- 
# tion, “What color hair did he have?” 

“Oh, light hair; sort of light.” 

“Was it sandy, or yellow?” 

“Well, I don’t know really.” 

“Oh! you don’t know?” in a fierce tone. 

“Yes, it was sandy. 

“What color eyes had he? 

“They were — Well I really forget whether they 
were dark blue, or gray. I didn’t — ” 

“Do you mean to tell this jury, Mr. Officer, that 
you did not see what colored eyes your prisoner 
had?” Mr. Trickle was still more fierce now. 

“Why yes, I saw,” replied the officer a trifle 
worried. “They were dark-blue.” 

“Now about his nose. Did you say there was 
a slight scar upon one side of his nose?” 


TRIED BY HIS PEERS 


157 


^‘No, I didn’t/^ quite indignantly. 

“Well now really. Do you mean to say you did 
not.^ Well, now tell the jury that there was not 
a slight scar upon one side of his nose.” 

“No I won’t either. I think there was a scar 
upon his nose. A very litttle one, now I think of 
it.” 

“Upon which side was it, now?” asked Trickle 
smiling in an insidious manner. 

“I really couldn’t say that.” 

“Oh, you couldn’t. Now Mr. Officer, what you 
have told me in regard to the appearance of that 
man, are just as true statements as any you have 
made, are they not ?” 

“Yes sir. Of course.” 

“Now Mr. Officer,” said Trickle with a chuckle, 
taking the paper away from the front of the de- 
fendant’s face, “the jury can see for themselves, 
and so can the county attorney. The hair is not 
sandy, but pure yellowish brown; the eyes are 
not blue, but deep hazel, and there is not a scar 
upon either side of the nose, is there?” 

“I don’t know,” said the officer, completely non- 
plussed to think he could forget so soon. 

“Well, look and see. Isn’t what I have stated 
a fact?” 


158 


TRIED BY HIS PEERS 


“Yes, I guess so/' 

“That will do, Mr. Officer." 

“Mr. Rafferty, you didn’t notice particularly the 
color of the eyes and the features of your prisoner, 
did you.^" asked the county attorney. 

“No, not very particular." 

James Brigham was called, and made a good 
impression upon the audience by his quiet testi- 
mony, but no one could tell if an impression had 
been made on the jury. The fact of the matter 
was, that intelligent body, in which aliens predom- 
inated, were not capable of an expression of coun- 
tenance, individually or collectively, and at least a 
third of them seemed overpowered with a desire 
to go to sleep, and would have done so had not 
the surroundings and the frequent scowls of the 
judge been upon the offenders. The witness stuck 
to his story with out a deviation, and took his seat. 

The balance of the trial was tedious until it 
came to the turn of Jailor Mike Bradly, who made 
some little amusement. He had little to tell, 
except as to the search of the prisoner, and the 
finding of the money, but he seemed to be filled 
with a desire to let the court and the jury know 
that the defendant had one of the most remarkable 
fists he ever saw for hitting powers. 


TRIED BY HIS PEERS 


159 


The state did not appear to want much of Mr. 
Bradly, and delivered him over to the tender mer- 
cies of Mr. Bramble after a few questions. That 
gentleman was somewhat at a loss how to proceed 
having no clear line of action. He did not lose 
the opportunity however to show his powers at 
cross-questioning, and before long had the witness 
so confused that he did not know whether the 
prisoner had struck him with the right hand or the 
left. Just as the attorney had arrived at that stage 
of triumph, and was giving the jury an acute glance 
testamentary to his own perspicacity, the witness 
spoiled it all by volunteering: 

“Well, it don’t make any difference which hand 
he struck me with, I know it was on the left side 
of my face.’^ 

“Oh, it was, was it?” cried the attorney, bridling 
at once. “Now pray how do you know it was on 
the left side of your face ?” 

“How do you know you’re alive?” was the quick 
retort, and the crowd laughed the harder as Mr. 
Bramble volunteered sotto voce\ “He don’t know 
that he is.” 

There was a loud rap for order from the gavel 
in the hands of the deputy, which awoke a juror 
11 


l60 TRIED BY HIS PEERS 

on the upper seat so suddenly that his chair slipped 
off the front edge of the step, and but for the broad 
back of the German juror in front of him, he would 
have been precipitated ignominiously to the floor. 

That closed the case for the state, and Mr. 
Trickle was on his feet, and with his best prelimi- 
nary bow, cleared his throat, and addressed the 
court as follows. 

‘^If the court pleases, and gentlemen of the jury. 
Here he paused to single out with his glance a 
florid Swede on the end, who was looking at him 
suspiciously, thinking him a party to the crime, 
and prepared to find a verdict for complicity. “As 
the attorney for the state has told you, this is not 
a personal matter, but a case in which the state 
seeks to prove a charge against this man almost as 
serious in its nature as that of murder.’’ Here Mr. 
Trickle stopped to take a few swallows of water. 
“The court will instruct you, gentlemen of the 
jury, that in this case, the burden of proof lies on 
the licenser. I see before me an intelligent body 
of gentlemen, able and willing to pay strict atten- 
tion to the testimony evolved here, and render a 
verdict in conformity with the testimony. Perhaps 
there has been a mistake in the identity of this 


TRIED BY HIS PEERS l6l 

man, and you are all too intelligent to be imposed 
upon by the superciliousness, and the biased minds 
of these police officers.^’ The repeated compli- 
ments to the jury began to win its members over, 
and there was a look of complacency upon the 
faces of all who were capable of an expression. 
“In regard to this act, but one man claims to have 
seen it committed, and that man is the principal 
witness for the state. I will now give you the 
testimony of the only other eye witness to — that 
is— er — the defendant, who will show you that 
the state’s witness lies. I ask you all to listen to 
this evidence as if it was one of your own family 
who was on trial for his liberty or death, I will 
call John Doe.’^ 

Hector arose from his seat with a flushed face, 
and took the oath, casting down his eyes that he 
might not face that great crowd, and then mounted 
the step to the witness chair. As he turned to seat 
himself, his eyes went about the room in a quick 
flash, and on the instant he started and the glance 
rested for one brief moment on one spot in that 
room, and he made a movement as if he would 
step forward, while his lips moved in an inarticu- 
late attempt to call out. Then his brows con- 


TRIED BY HIS PEERS 


162 

tracted, and he sank into the chair. In that one 
brief moment he had seen Jacob Vosse near the 
door, and had recognized him. Vosse also had 
recognized him, for after one swift glance, he had 
slunk out at the door of the court-room. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


ONE AGAINST MANY. 

In the preliminary questioning the witness re- 
fused point blank to tell his true name, and stated 
that he had no place of residence. 

“Where had you been living previous to your 
arrival in this city ?” was asked by Attorney Trickle. 

“In Colorado.” 

“What city.?” 

“In’no city. I lived on the mountains several* 
miles from Denver.” 

“Now Mr. — er — Doe, you may tell the jury just 
what occurred, bearing on this case. How you 
obtained the money you had in your pocket, and 
how you came to come to this city.” 

“I had tired of the mountain life,” began Hector, 
turning to the jury, and speaking in earnest tones, 
without the least hesitation, “and resolved to again 
put myself in touch with civilization. I turned 
over my shanty to a friend, and after arranging 
1G3 


164 


ONE AGAINST MANY 


matters with him, I went to Denver, only intend- 
ing to remain there long enough to fit myself out, 
when I intended to come east. I had a few hun- 
dred dollars that I had managed to save up, and it 
was my purpose to fit myself out with suitable 
clothing to make myself presentable in a civilized 
community before starting away from the city.” 

“Exactly,” interrupted the irrepressible Trickle. 
“Wanted to make himself presentable. Go on,” 
and Trickle beamed on the jury as if each mem- 
ber was his own especial charge. 

“After having prepared myself, I found that I 
was too late for the train, and would be obliged 
to spend the night in Denver. I went to a gamb- 
ling house there, kept by a man called Texas Jack, 
and there played faro to pass away the time, 
playing small amounts at first without much inter- 
est, but it seemed as if every bet I laid won for 
me, and I became interested, and soon was playing 
heavily. I played there until two o’clock in the 
morning, when the dealer stood up, and turned 
the box over. I had broken the bank, which 
carried ten thousand dollars.” 

“Did you receive that amount of money.?” 

“No, for the reason that there were several other 


ONE AGAINST MANY 


165 


men playing at the table, and they had some of 
the chips. I cashed in over nine thousand five 
hundred dollars, and was paid with packages of 
money taken from the safe, just as they had been 
drawn from the bank.’^ 

‘‘What was the amount, in each package, and 
how many were there?” 

“There was one package marked $5,000, and 
four marked $1,000.” 

“How was the balance paid to you?” 

“The balance was paid in bills, taken from the 
till, and counted out to me. I went at once to 
the Windsor hotel, after securing a large envelope, 
which I cut open, and wrapped around the money, 
sealing it, and placing it with the clerk for safe- 
keeping. The next day I went to a store, and 
purchased a large pocket-book, which I took to 
my room, and placed in it the money in the pack- 
ages together with $560 of the other money, the 
balance of which I folded up and put in my pocket, 
loose. That same day I took the train for Omaha, 
and came on direct to this city.” 

“Now tell us please, what occurred after you 
arrived here. Did you go at once to a hotel?” 

“No. I had some curiosity to see the conven- 


ONE AGAINST MANY 


1 66 

tion building and went over the river for that pur- 
pose. First, though, at the depot there was a 
couple of men who spoke to me and asked 
if I was not somebody or other, but I was looking 
out for confidence men, and did not give them any 
satisfaction, asking another man the way to the 
building.” 

“Would you know that man again if you should 
see him.^^” 

“I would not. I didn’t notice him particularly. 
I know one of the other men though, and it is 
that man Dennison, who sits at the table.” 

“Was there anybody who saw you have the 
money, on the train 

“Yes, there were two men in the sleeper coming 
here, whom I had been talking with, and when it 
came time to turn in,* I showed them the pocket- 
book, and said I had a large — ” 

“Never mind what you said,” cried the com- 
bative Mr. Bramble. “Your honor, I move that 
the last statement be striken out.” 

The motion was allowed. 

“Well,” continued the witness, “I showed it to 
them anyway, and a conversation arose — ” 

“I object to the conversation,” cried Bramble. 


ONE AQAINST MANY 1 6 / 

“It is not competent, and would lead to the trying 
of other issues/^ 

“Oh, I think he may answer,’^ said the court, 
and the attorney entered an exception. 

“We had a conversation as to what would be 
the best place to put the money and ,upon their 
advice, I placed it beneath my clothing, over my 
breast.’^ 

“Where are those men now.^” 

“I don’t knov/. They said they were on their 
way to Dakota.” 

“Now tell what occurred on the night this crime 
is alleged to have occurred.” 

“I was walking by a high fence, when I was 
suddenly approached by a man, who asked me 
what time it was, and I at once recognized the 
man who had accosted me at the depot. I made 
some reply, I forget what, and tried to pass on, 
when he stepped up close to me, and then I struck 
him with my fist on the cheek. He reeled and 
seemed about to fall, when I heard a step behind 
me, and turned just in time to see another man 
coming at me. I did not stop to think, but struck 
him with all my force in the face, knocking him 
against the fence, and he made off across the street. 


ONE AGAINST MANY 


l68 

My blow had glanced a little, or I would have laid 
him out. Then I turned, and the other one was 
coming for me with his hand raised up with some- 
thing in it. Then I swung my cane, and felled 
him to the walk, passing on swiftly to avoid any 
further trouble, and making for the more brilliant- 
ly lighted streets.” 

‘‘Who was that man you struck with the cane.^” 

“That man at the table— Dennison.” 

The recital did not create any great interest. 
It was generally supposed that the witness was 
lying, and Dennison looked about in an injured 
way, as if he was a much traduced man. 

“Where did you go then.^^” 

“I strolled about the streets a little, and finally 
went to the hotel, where I was arrested.” 

“You have heard the testimony of the witnesses 
for the state. You may state if they have told the 
truth or not.” 

“This man Dennison, and the other, Brigham, 
have told a straight string of lies. The officers 
and the rest of them have spoken comparative 
truth.” 

Mr. Bramble took the witness through a tedious 
course of cross-questioning, but did not succeed 


ONE AGAINST MANY 1 69 

in making him contradict himself in any statement. 

Then he started upon a new tack. 

“How many times have you been arrested be^ 
fore.?” 

“Never!” cried the witness, Cushing hotl 

“What.? Do you swear that you was not 
arrested for highway robbery in Philadelphia.?” 

“I object,” cried Trickle, springing to his feet. 
“This line of questioning is brought in for the sole 
purpose of prejudicing the jury against the accused 
and has no bearing at all on this case.” 

“Your honor,” said Bramble, argumentatively, 
“I think I have a right to go into the character of 
the accused, as a witness.” 

“For what purpose.?” asked the court. 

“Oh, to prove the general discredibility of his 
testimony in this case.” 

“You may question him.?” 

“Well, were you ever behind the bars in Phila- 
delphia.? Answer my question.” 

“1 have told you that I never was arrested before 
for any cause.” 

“Will you swear that your picture is not in the 
New York rogue’s gallery.? Be careful now, re- 
member we have means of knowing all about it.” 


170 ONE AGAINST MANY 

“Perhaps you had better produce that knowledge 
then, and not rely upon my answers,” cried Hector 
bitterly. “I am no more in a rogue’s gallery than 
you are.” 

There were any amount of questions in the same 
line, and all for the purpose of prejudicing the 
jury. The officers had positively no proof that the 
prisoner had ever been in the toils before, but the 
prosecution had the right to ask the questions, and 
ask them in the most insinuating manner, as if 
there was not the least doubt but what the man 
was an old criminal, who had been rounded up 
again by an efficient police force. After Bramble 
was through with him, Trickle again took him in 
hand, and asked a few unimportant questions, 
drawing out the assertions that the witness had 
never been in Philadelphia, nor east of the Mis- 
souri for the past three years. 

It was in the midst of a question, and just be- 
fore the examination closed, that those who were 
watching the witness closely, saw him halt in his 
answer, and avert his face, which had suddenly 
turned to a deep crimson hue; but not before the}^ 
had seen his eyes flash in recognition, and his 
strong frame tremble with some repressed excite- 


ONE AGAINST MANY 


I7I 

ment. So moved was he that the question re- 
mained unanswered. 

Dozens of eyes followed his glance, and saw 
standing a few steps within the green baize* doors, 
a handsome woman, attired in the height of fash- 
ion. Her face was a picture of astonishment, not 
unmixed with terror, and for a moment her eyes 
dilated, as she saw the prisoner. How long she 
had stood there no one knew, for none had noticed 
her entrance. The lady realized the situation and 
clung to the railing at the edge of the entrance 
for support. Then a moment after, she glided 
from the room, and the doors swung noiselessly 
together behind her. 

Bramble turned to the witness again, and put 
the question suddenly. 

“Do you know the person who has just left the 
room V' 

Hector turned upon the questioner a pair of 
troubled eyes, but was not caught napping. He 
had seen the form of a woman enter the court- 
room, and knew that that woman was Eunice. 
He could not be mistaken, for there could not be 
two like her. That she should be the witness to 
his disgrace cut him to the heart, but no one 


1/2 


ONE AGAINST MANY 


should know that she had ever known him in other 
days. 

‘‘I know no one here,” was the reply he gave 
the attorney. 

The trial was resumed, and the testimony for 
the defense closed with the statements of the 
witness in his own behalf. It was practically a 
sure case for the state, and already the crowd of 
listeners had condemned him, and wagers were 
laid that the jury would not be out a half hour. 
The jury, by the way was a weary looking lot when 
Mr. Bramble arose to make his summing up for 
the state. They had been half asleep during the 
most of the trial, except in cases where some of 
them had been fully so, and they were glad that 
the case looked to be nearing an end. 

The address of Mr. Bramble was but little longer 
than that of his adversary who followed him. He 
enlarged upon the duty of the jury in protecting 
the lives and purses of the community by giving 
the accused such a verdict as would make his case 
a lesson to the great army of footpads that infested 
the city, and made it unsafe to walk the streets at 
night. He used all the license allowed him, to 
abuse the prisoner, stated that he was an old 


ONE AGAINST MANY 


173 


offender, and that the police had been looking for 
him for many days. It was an able tirade against 
crime, which according to his words was embodied 
in the one person of the accused. After painting 
John Doe as black as it was possbile to paint a 
human being, he seated himself, and Trickle cleared 
his throat, prepared to address the jury. 

Hector listened to Bramble’s tirade of abuse 
with wonder. He began almost to wonder if he 
was not really a black hearted rascal, and if he 
did not deserve a little less than hanging at the 
hands of that court. Surely he must have com- 
mitted some crime in his sleep, for it could not be 
that an innocent man could be so scored and have 
it allowed by the law. Mr. Trickle’s effort was a 
conglomeration of words lasting about ten minutes, 
in which he said nothing to the point, but compli- 
mented that stupid body of men upon their intelli- 
gence and claims to respect. The twelve men in 
the meantime blinked and lolled about in all sorts 
of shapes, paying about as much attention as if 
Trickle was talking Greek. Then came the calm 
words of the court, giving the law of the case in 
an unbiased manner. He heard the judge say 
solemnly to the jury that individually gazed upon 


174 


ONE AGAINST MANY 


him with open mouths, drinking in every word, 
though not understanding them. “The accused 
stands before you, gentlemen of the jury, clothed 
v^ith the assumption of innocence, and that he is a 
prisoner here, must in no wise influence you in 
drawing a conclusion from the evidence.” 

The accused wondered if he had heard aright. 
The court said that he stood there clothed with 
the assumption of innocence, and yet he had 
already languished in jail almost four months. It 
was a thing hardly to be believed, and yet from 
what he had learned of the law, such was the 
practice. A man is assumed by the law to be in- 
nocent of a crime until he is proved to be guilty, 
and yet with its dilatory tactics, its red tape, its 
heavy machinery, its unjust grand jury system, it 
keeps locked behind bars of steel for a third of a 
year, a man whom according to its own admission, 
it assumes to be innocent. The prisoner throwm 
into deep thought by the admission, did not hear 
the balance of the charge, and was only awakened 
from his revery by the voice of the clerk, who was 
reading the oath to the deputy sheriff, who was 
to take the jury out. The twelve men filed out 
of the room after the officer, and the prisoner was 


ONE AGAINST MANY 


175 


allowed to remain in the court-room under the 
custody of a jailer until the jury should return with 
its verdict. The moments dragged by like hours 
while the accused man awaited the action of the 
twelve of his fellows who had his fate, his future, 
his ruin or freedom in their hands. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL. 

The household of Emery Allen had remained 
undisturbed in spite of the fact that the conven- 
tion had been over for some months, ancfthe major- 
ity of the city’s visitors had returned themselves 
to their homes. The young hostess was voluble in 
her asssurances that there was no reason why they 
should break up the little party, at least until 
winter had fairly broken the delightful autumn 
weather, and it had required but little coaxing to 
induce them to accede to her wishes. They were 
well aware that whatever the daughter said, the 
father would acquiesce in, aud therefore knew well 
that their invitation was a hearty one. 

Young Charley Tremaine had progressed so 
well in his wooing with Miss Bearing, that it was 
given out that they were engaged, in spite of the 
fact that their continued little spats were almost 
sufficient to contradict the assertion. 

176 


HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 


177 


^‘We don’t mean it, you know,” explained 
Blanche, “and I think it makes it all the more in- 
teresting. I don’t care a fig for lovers who can’t 
have a little spunk. If we fight now, there will 
be less of it after we are married.” 

Miss Laclaire on the other hand did not appear 
to have the most excellent success in her designs 
upon Donald. He was a thoughtful young man 
withal, and had grown to distrust the superb ap- 
pearing woman, who with all her veneer could not 
conceal from him the selfish heart that beat be- 
neath that polished exterior. Poor little Lola still 
kept her secret locked safely in her own breast, 
but appeared to grow more retiring, until Eunice 
chided her, and insisted that she was becoming ill. 

Vosse had held aloof from the object of his 
affections since the awful set back bis wooing had 
received at her hands. He was rejoiced that she 
had made no complaint to her father, and he had 
resolved that he would give up his object. At 
some time in the future he would begin his marked 
attentions again, when she had forgotten his rash- 
ness of that afternoon, when he had come so near 
dealing the death blow to all his cherished hopes. 

The case of John Doe had not been spoken of 


178 


HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 


among them, until Rachel Allen had read the pro- 
ceedings of the first day of the trial to the gather- 
ing at the breakfast-table. There were a few 
remarks upon the case, but it did not awaken 
much interest. In that family at least, John Doe 
had been tried and found guilty, in line with the 
tenor of the newspaper report. 

It was on that memorable day to the accused 
man, when he was making his defense before the 
jury, that Eunice had occasion to do some shop- 
ping. At the critical moment when she had 
selected some goods for a reception gown, she 
discovered that she had not the money to pay 
for it. She requested the clerk to put it aside 
for her, and then went direct to her father’s 
office, to procure the money to pay for it. Mr. 
Allen was not at the office, but she was informed 
he had gone to the court house to argue a motion 
before one of the judges. The daughter was in- 
tent upon securing that particular piece of goods, 
and as there was no other way to procure the 
money, she took a car, and went at once to the 
court house. 

The building was strange to her, as she had never 
been there before, so it was no wonder that she 


HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 


179 


was at a loss where to go to find her father. She 
was told that the court-rooms were up stairs, and 
she went as directed, but blundered into the first 
room that presented a door. It was the large 
court-room, and it was well crowded with people 
listening to a trial in progress. The girl was a little 
timid at first, but thinking that perhaps it was the 
case in which her "father was engaged, she was 
about to step farther into the room, when Vosse 
passed rapidly toward the door, passing her. She 
followed him out, and asked where her father was 
at that time. 

‘T don’t know,” said he, a startled look coming 
to his face as he saw her there. “What on earth 
are you doing here? This is no place for you.” 

“I wanted to get s'ome money,” she explained, 
“and they told me that papa was here trying a case.” 

“Here,” he cried, leading her away from the 
door, as if frightened at something. “I will give 
you whatever amount you need and you must go 
right home.” 

“I will procure what money I require from my 
father,” she replied with some dignity, “and I most 
certainly shall not go home until I see him. If 
you wish to be useful to me, you will direct m.e to 
him at once.” 


i8o 


HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 


“Certainly, ifyou will accept no other alternative,” 
was the apologetic reply of the nervous young 
man, who was taking great care to lead the lady 
farther away from that double green baize door 
as fast as possible. He did not intend that she 
should become aware of the fact that Hector 
Forbes was the man on trial in that room, if it was 
possible for him to prevent it. He was almost 
certain that she entertained more than a passing 
fancy for the mountain guide, and should she see 
him, there was no telling what her woman’s heart 
would prompt her to do. If she never knew who 
it was that was being tried, he might be condemned 
and safely jailed in a short time. 

Eunice was a more than particularly bright 
young woman, and it did not escape her sharp 
eyes that there was something out of the ordinary 
agitating Vosse. She was as curious as most 
women, and when she was certain that the young 
man was attemping to draw her away from that 
room, she was determined in her own heart that 
she would enter there, to see why it was that he 
was striving to induce her to retrace her steps. 

“Will you kindly go and try to find my father.^” 
she asked pointedly. 


HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL l8l 

“Why, certainly,” was the reply, “but hadn’t 
you better go down to one of the offices, where you 
can find a seat, and wait until I find him?” 

They were at the end of the hall by this time, 
and Eunice drew a chair forward that had been 
standing by a door and seated herself, with a 
wholly feminine air; admitting of no contradiction. 

“I will remain here,” she said quietly, “until you 
have returned.” 

Vosse hesitated for a moment, and again looked 
furtively toward the door. 

“By the way,” he said, as if the thought had just 
occurred to him. “Do not go into that room. 
There is a case on trial there, that is not fit for 
the ears of a lady.” 

He left her then, and for a few moments Eunice 
remained seated, and kept control of her curiosity. 
His last argument had been almost sufficient to 
keep her from the room, and had she not known 
that the word of Mr. Vosse was not above par, 
she would probably have believed his last asser- 
tion, and been content to remain on the outside of 
those forbidden doors. As it was, she was over 
come with a desire to see what had so disturbed 
her whilom suitor, and so with a determined step. 


i 82 


HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 


she arose from her seat, and marched boldly into 
the large court-room. 

The doors opened easily at her touch, and then 
swung noiselessly back to place She found her- 
self in the rear of a crowd, the view being ob- 
structed by the broad backs of several men who 
were intent observers and listeners to the trial. 
As she stood thus, hesitating as to whether she 
should advance or retreat, the voices came to her, 
and enough of the questions and answers were heard 
to acquaint her with the fact that the case was the 
trial of the man of whom they had read in the 
papers as having waylaid and robbed a man, and 
who had refused to give his name. She was sat- 
isfied, and was about to leave the room again, 
when a sudden desire came over her to see more 
of the room. She was curious to see how the 
court looked during a criminal case, and she 
pushed forward. After a few steps she was through 
the crowd of men by the door, and had her hand 
on the railing in front of the tiered seats. Then 
she raised her eyes, and saw the whole scene, 
pictured on her mind so that it would never escape 
it. She saw the judge high above them all, the 
clerk at the desk below, the long green table, with 


HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 


183 


its men on either side, the police officers, and the 
rest of the waiting witnesses, and then her glance 
went to the witness on the stand, and her heart 
seemed to stop beating. 

She recognized him at once. She had thought 
that one of the voices was familiar, and the face of 
the man awakened the full memory. The face was 
pale and slightly sunken, but the hair, the eyes 
and the form were the same. There sat the man 
with whom she had braved the dangers of the 
mountain, and who had so bravely piloted her 
safely through the storm on Gray’s peak. For 
a moment her feeling was one of joy at seeing him 
again, then this was followed by a sinking at the 
heart and a terrible dread, as she realized that he 
was the man who was accused of committing the 
fearful crime attributed to him, and who had 
already been condemned in her own heart when 
she had heard of the circumstances. For a mo- 
ment she stood there clinging to the railing, and 
then as his eyes encountered hers with the flash 
of recognition, she turned and glided noiselessly 
from the room, reeling as she did so, and clutching 
at the door-posts for support. 

Just as she emerged from the room, Vosse hurried 


1 84 HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 

up the stairs, and met her face to face. His counte- 
nance was a study, filled as it was with an expres- 
sion of apprehension intermixed with one of guilt. 
Whether she had seen enough to make her ac- 
quainted with what the trial was about, or who 
was the party concerned, he did not know, but he 
was not kept long in doubt. At sight of him the 
young lady recovered her strength under the pres- 
sure of her scorn, and blazed at him with her fine 
eyes. 

“Liar!” she cried in a low concentrated voice. 
“Now I know you for what you are.” 

Before he could reply, Mr. Allen came up the 
stairs also, and greeted his daughter with one of 
his bright smiles. 

“Vosse told me you wanted to see me,” he said. 
“What does my girl want now.^^” 

Eunice drew him through an open doorway into 
a court-room that was vacant, and paused awhile 
before answering, to collect her wandering senses. 
She had forgotten all about the money she had 
intended to ask him for. He saw her perturbed 
look, but waited for her to speak. 

“I want you to do a great favor for me,” she 
said finally. “A great favor for me and, a duty 
you owe to another.” 


HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 


185 


“My little girl appears very much in earnest,’’ 
said the attorney reflectively. “What has oc- 
curred to make you act so strangely .J”’ 

“Do you remember the brave man who risked 
his life to save mine, that fearful day on Gray’s 
peak.?” 

“I shall never forget him ” was the feeling an- 
swer. 

“Do you remember Vosse reading at the break- 
fast-table the other day, of a man who had as- 
saulted and robbed another, one night.?” 

“Yes. But what has that to do with your other 
question.? You are wandering from the subject.” 

“No, no, I am not. That man and the mount- 
ain guide are one and the same, and he is being 
tried this minute in that court-room,” and the 
excited woman pointed toward the room in which 
the trial was going on. 

The attorney was troubled in an instant. He 
realized at once what his daughter would ask, and 
was at a loss what to do in the matter. 

“Are you sure you are not mistaken.?” he asked. 

“I saw him myself, but a moment ago, on the 
witness stand being tried, perhaps for his life,” 
she cried pitifully. “Oh, do — pray help him, in 
return for what he once did for us.” 


1 86 HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 

Mr. Allen was a man careful of conception, but 
quick to act. His great brain took in the circum- 
stances in a moment. He remembered that the 
accused had been without friends, and had been 
unable to get bail. Perhaps he might be innocent, 
and might be proved guilty through that very 
circumstance. He made up his mind in an instant, 
and his face cleared as he turned to his daughter, 
and drew her arm within his own, leading her 
from the room. 

“Now little girl,” he said soothingly, “you go 
straight home, and leave this matter to me. 
I promise you that I will look into this matter 
at once and, if anything can be done for the 
young man, I will do it. He has made me his 
debtor, and even if he should be guilty, I would 
be lacking in heart, were I to refuse to do all that 
was in the power of mortal man, or an attorney, 
to get him clear of his difficulty.” 

The impulsive girl stopped him right there in 
the hallway and gave him a mute caress in thank- 
fulness. 

“Bless you, papa,” she cried. “I knew you 
would aid him if I would ask. Oh! try to set him 
free, and repay him for what he has done for us in 
the past.” 


HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 


187 


“I will do the best I can,” was the reassuring 
reply, while he led her to the street and called the 
carriage. ‘^Now go right home like a good girl, 
and tell Rachel that I may not be home to dinner. 
This matter may occupy me for some time.” 

He kissed her a fond good-bye, and as the car- 
riage whirled away, she blew him a kiss from the 
tips of her fingers, and he turned and entered the 
grim building. That theater for sorrow, tears and 
life disappointments, not unmixed with injustice 
cloaked with the somber vestments of law! 


CHAPTER XV. 


HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO. 

Eunice passed a sleepless vigil that night, for it 
was long after midnight when her father arrived 
home. After such a long siege of waiting, with 
anxiety gnawing at her heart, sleep for the balance 
of the night was almost entirely out of the ques- 
tion. Mr. Allen had repaired directly to the court- 
room after his daughter had left him, but took 
care that the accused should not see him. His 
practiced eye showed him at once at what stage 
the case had arrived, and he knew it would be safe for 
him to attend to what business was before him in 
other parts of the building, before the case could 
possibly be completed, and it was only at its com- 
pletion that he could be of any use to the young 
man. 

He took the trouble to question a young attor- 
ney, as to the evidence in the case, and learned 
that it was all one way, the accused having no one 
188 


HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO I 89 

to corroborate his story. He then decided upon 
his line of action, and was back to the court-room 
shortly after the jury had gone out to deliberate 
upon a verdict. He seated himself in a secluded 
corner of the room, and pretended to read a paper, 
while he in fact studied the face of the accused. 

There was not the least question but that it 
was Forbes who was seated moodily at the table, 
from which he had never moved since the twelve 
men had filed out of the jury box, to be locked in the 
star chamber that had held so many life secrets 
before his time. After assuring himself that his 
daughter had not been mistaken, the attorney 
arose leisurely, and approached the deputy jailer 
who had the prisoner in charge. He was well 
acquainted with the man, and was greeted with a 
nod as he approached. 

“Officer, I want a word with your prisoner,’’ 
was the low request, to which the man replied in 
the affirmative. 

The attorney walked around the long table, 
and seated himself directly behind the heart- 
broken young man, who had suffered so 
much at the hands of an outraged law. Then 
leaning forward, he touched him lightly on the 


190 HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO 

shoulder, and waited. Hector turned slowly in 
response to the touch, and at the instant his eyes 
rested upon the face of the attorney, he recognized 
him, and his face flushed hotly, with a look of 
unutterable shame at his position. His look 
showed the disgrace he felt, but the head was not 
bowed as if under the weight of a crime. 

“Mr. Forbes, said the attorney, speaking slowly, 
and so that they could not be overheard. “I am 
surprised to see you in such a predicament.’’ 

“I am as sorry to see you,” was the answer, in a 
calm voice. “It only adds one more blow to the 
bitter ones I have been compelled to stand of late.” 

“What do you mean.^ Is it then a misfortune 
to meet a friend?” 

“A friend!” cried Hector with a low, mirthless 
laugh, full of sarcasm, looking about the room like 
a caged lion. “Who that ever entered here, could 
claim a friend. Over that door should be written 
in letters of living fire, ^ Leave hope and friends 
behind, all ye who enter here.’” 

“Come, come,” replied the attorney cordially, 
“you are morbid, and are not in a condition to talk 
sense. My daughter — ” 

“She too has been a witness to my shame,” 


HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO I9I 

groaned the stricken man, burying his face in his 
hands. 

^‘Well, if you put it that way, of course. But 
nevertheless she is not ungrateful for what you 
did for us once, and I have promised to help you. 
Now first of all, look me in the face. Tell me if 
you are guilty, or not. Mind, I want the truth, 
for it will make it the easier for me to get you out 
of this scrape.” 

Hector raised his head proudly, and flashed a 
glance of pride back at his interrogator. 

‘‘To others,” he cried, “I would have a caustic 
answer ready to that question, which I have an- 
swered so often in the negative, that I am tired of 
it. But to you, who come from her, I will say 
truthfully, and as I hope for grace in the great 
hereafter that the story I have told upon this 
witness stand is the truth.” 

“I believe you, young man, ”cried the attorney, 
grasping the hand of the martyr cordially, “and I 
will free you. Now don’t become effusive, nor ask 
me how, but just go back to your cell, and I 
promise you it will be the last night you will spend 
there, for a time at least.” 

There was only time for a pressure of the hand 

13 


1(J2 HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO 

from Hector, and a whispered ‘^God bless you, ’Hor 
the jailer was after him to shut him up again until 
the jury should be ready to report, and the two 
men parted, the prisoner for the first time in many 
weeks walking with a light step, and head erect. 
Such was the direct effect of one friend in a chaos 
of misfortune. Then the attorney spread out his 
papers, elevated his heels to the judicial table in 
true legal fashion, lighted a fragrant cigar, and 
prepared to await the verdict. 

Meantime, the most interesting portion of the 
court house, was the little jury room, in which 
were closeted the twelve men who were to pass 
upon the guilt or innocence of the accused, from 
the evidence. At first all was chaos, for the reason 
that all were at a loss what was expected of them, 
as it Vv^as the first case for that panel, and with 
two exceptions they had not served upon a jury 
before. At last it was discovered that the colored 
barber had served previously, and upon his instruct- 
ions, he was selected as a foreman. Upon his 
suggestion, a vote was taken to discover the way 
the jury stood. Before this could be accomplished, 
several pipes were drawn from capacious pockets, 
from the stub clay of the Emerald Isle, to the 


HOW xMONEY MAKES THE LAW GO 


193 


tasseled porcelain bowl of the Fatherland. There 
was a borrowing of tobacco, a few puffs that tilled 
the little room with smoke, and the slips of paper 
were distributed. 

Here a new complication arose, for it was dis- 
covered that a portion of the jury could not write. 
A recent importation from Cork, finally suggested 
that for those who could not write, it would be 
sufficient to place a cross upon the paper to indicate 
‘‘guilty,” and a circle to indicate the reverse. This 
was satisfactory, and the balloting went on while the 
occupants of the room looked as serious as a dele- 
gation of owls. 

From the evidence secured in the trial, it would 
be naturally presumed that it would have required 
but one ballot to determine the result, for if ever 
there was a case that had been proved, it was the 
one at hand. But the modern jury is an unknown 
quantity, and peculiar are its ways. The vote was 
counted, and it was found that there were seven 
for conviction, and five for acquittal. Here was a 
state of things which proved to be a mammoth 
obstacle for the jury. Then the arguments began, 
and there was a babel of almost every known 
tongue. 


194 


HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO 


“Aye tank, bay yimmany,’’ cried the pink faced 
Swede, after the noise had abated for a minute, 
“des man har ban hal dam gude fallar.’’ 

“What for you make so much talk, Sweden?^’ 
cried a fat Quebec Frenchman excitedly. “It ez 
de sure cass.’’ 

“Himmel, vas is de drubbles,” came from the 
German, as he puffed a long pull from his pipe, 
and looked about at his fellows jovially. “Make 
oud no drubbles. Ve get zwei dollar day. Vats 
the matter 

Here the barber broke in and delivered a lecture 
in reference to his experience on juries, and after a 
long discourse informed them on his honor as a 
juryman that the man had been proved guilty be- 
yond a doubt. 

“Just look at the legal status of the question,’^ 
he explained “and tell me how it is that the de- 
friendant has inquired one slimtilla of the evidence 
for to show that he has not been showed to be 
guilty of the parboiling of that portmoney. You 
men are all intelligent citizens of this great repub- 
lican and you know that what I says is right.” 

This argument was a squelcher and several of 
the men nodded sagely at each other and were of 


HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO 19$ 

the opinion that the barber was a gentleman of far 
deeper reasoning than his color might seem to 
indicate. It was generally admitted that he was 
deeply learned in the law. 

“Yah, you vas right,” said the German with an 
emphatic nod of the head. 

Another vote was taken and the barber spelled 
out the word while another checked them off. 
Guilty was spelled “gelty ^^jilty;” “ham ban galty 
“gehlty” and every way but the right one and the 
result showed nine for conviction and three for 
acquittal. These last three men stuck to their 
colors, one for the reason that he was a profes- 
sional juror, a talesman who had been drawn on 
the case, and would get pay for two days if he 
could hold the jury out until after midnight, and 
the other two, the man from Cork, and the pink 
faced Swede, who held with him. 

“Now yez look a here,” cried Pat. “Give not 
been much on the joory meself, but Oi know a 
thing or two about law, begorra, for it’s mesself 
that’s been before hizzonor siveral toimes whin Oi 
have taken a dhrop too much ov the crather, and 
begorra, lit me tell yez, that it’s the joodge, saints 
presarve him, as is the boss ov thim all. Whist 


196 HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO 

now. Phwat does the joodge be sayin’ in this 
case! says he to us, sez he, ‘The prisoner schtands 
befoor yez all this day, clothin’ himself wid all the 
consoomshun ov innocence. ’ Do ye moind that 
now. The joodge says that to us, sez he, and 
Oi’ll be dommed if Mike Brannigan don’t schtick 
by the joodge, aven if Moike Rafferty as Oi mesself 
knows on the foorse, did tistify on the ither soide.’^ 

“Yah, das is right too,” cried the German once 
more. 

There was no use in argument, and Mike stuck 
to his guns so that there was no agreement at mid- 
night and the deputy brought in cots for them and 
they turned in for the night to sleep in the best 
bunks, and on the fullest stomachs many of them 
had encountered for many a day for the county had 
provided them with a supper at six o’clock. 

Sleep did not end the discussion by any means, 
for Mike, filled with the idea that he was correct 
in the stand he had taken kept one eye open until 
all was quiet, and then stealthily awoke a sleeper 
to argue with him in a whisper, until that individual 
was more or less convinced. This was repeated 
several times before the wily Irishman finally rolled 
himself in a blanket and added his sonorous snores to 


HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW CO 


197 


the bright galaxy of nasal noises that were even 
then rattling the windows of the jury room, and 
disturbing the rest of the deputy who was attempt- 
ing to snatch a little sleep in the outer room. 

The jury was up betimes in the morning, and 
while it was awaiting the arrival of the deputy, 
the professional juror, who had not taken much 
active part in the discussion up to that time, gave 
extended advise tending toward an agreement. 
They had passed the night in the jury room, en- 
titling each of them to two days pay, which as a 
talesman he could draw without having to serve 
again that day on a jury. Hunger however was 
bothering the others more than an agreement, and 
it was not until they had been taken out to a sub- 
stantial breakfast, and had afterward filled their pipes 
again with tobacco, and the room with smoke, that it 
was thought proper to take another vote, and then 
what was the surprise of everybody, to find that 
the jury stood six to six, thanks to Mike’s noctur- 
nal missionary work. 

Here was a new dilemma, that even nonplussed 
the barber, and threw the whole machinery of the 
institution into disorder. It was the professional 
juror who came to the relief of the party, and 


198 HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO 

solved the problem in a manner which caused 
them all to gaze upon him with admiration, not 
unmixed with awe at his brilliant mind. 

“My friends,” he said solemnly, “I have been 
upon many and many a jury in my life, although 
I have not mentioned it before since you wanted to 
make our colored friend your foreman. Now this 
trouble at which we have arrived, is what is called 
by attorneys, the comatos stage, and there is only 
one way out of it; the way we have always used. 
There is -six of us for guilty, and six for not guilty, 
so we will be fair if we flip up a coin for the result. 
What do you say.^” 

They were all agreeable. In fact it seemed the 
most plausible way out of the difficulty. The pro- 
fessional juror therefore extricated from his pocket 
a large battered copper cent, and prepared to toss 
in into the air. 

“That bit of a coin,” he said in explanation, 
“has decided many a case, and once was the cause 
of a life sentence. Now here goes. Heads is 
guilty, and tails is not guilty.” 

The coin spun in the air, hovered a moment 
near the ceiling and fell to the floor with a dead 
sound. They all bent over it closely, and saw 


HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO 


199 


that the head was uppermost. The fate of the 
accused was decided at last, and the foreman put 
in the one word guilty in the formal-verdict. Then 
they rapped loudly for the deputy, who told them 
they would have to wait in the room, until ten 
o’clock, when court would open. 

While they were waiting, Mike, the delegate 
from Cork, bent toward the professional juror and 
whispered softly, “Phwat may your name be.^ Sure 
it’s mesself would be proud of the acquaintance 
ov a mon learned in the languages.’’ 

“Tom Manly,” was the answer. “And I always 
try to live up to my name.” 

There was quite a crowd in the court-room when 
the jury filed in to render its verdict. The prisoner 
had been sent for, and was in his seat, pale as 
ever, but with a more hopeful look upon his face 
than it had worn for many a day. The foreman 
handed the verdict to the clerk, who passed it to 
the judge, and then it was read. 

“We the jury find the defendant guilty as 
charged in the indictment.” 

The jailer stepped toward the prisoner, but Mr. 
Allen, who was in waiting, motioned him back, 
and stepped to the front. 


200 


HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO 


“If the court pleases/^ he said quietly, “we ask 
for a stay of sentence for twenty days, for the 
purpose of arguing for a new trial.” 

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Allen,” said the court, 
politely, “but we did not know you were in this 
case.” 

“I am associated with Mr. Trickle in this action,” 
was the reply, and the astonished Trickle was so 
overjoyed at being noticed at all by the great attor- 
ney, that he nodded his head emphatically, and 
swelled his chest out mightily. 

“The stay will be granted,” said the court. 
“Bail is fixed at $2,000, Mr. Allen ” 

The great attorney motioned to his clerk, who 
was in attendance, and whispered a few words in 
his ear, which sent him out of the room on the run. 

“Just a few moments please,” said the attorney, 
and he proceeded to make out a bail bond, with 
the names blank. In a short time the clerk re- 
turned with Donald Tremaine and a business friend 
of the attorney, and the bond was signed, approved 
by the county attorney, and filed with the court. 

The next case was called, and the monotonous 
grind of justice went on. Mr. Allen stepped up to 
Hector, who was as one in a dream, and touched 
him on the shoulder. 


HOW MONEY MAKES THE LAW GO 


201 


“You are free now, until I call upon you to 
appear,” said he. “You had better come with me 
to the office, and we will arrange for future action.” 

Hector arose mechanically- and followed the 
attorney to the street. He looked up at the vault 
above, from which the young morning sun was 
darting its rays, the sky looking many times higher 
than he had ever seen it before; he drank in the 
pure wholesome air in great gasps, and the next 
moment found himself hustled into the attorney’s 
carriage, and was whirled away. 

For want of a friend, or money, he had been 
imprisoned in the common jail for months. With 
a friend, and money or its equivalant, he had been 
freed in just ten minutes. All powerful gold, the 
open sesame to the hearts and the dungeons of 
the world. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE MODERN LORD-HIGH-EXECUTIONER. 

It was several days after the release of Hector 
on bail, that the young people were gathered 
together on the lawn of the Allen residence, after 
having completed a double set at tennis. The 
gathering was unusually happy, for the reason that 
Vosse was conspicuous by his absence, and of late 
that young gentleman had not been the most jovial 
company. Eunice, Lola, Miss Laclaire and 
Donald were near the side gate, when a rather 
seedy looking man with a slouching walk, and a 
general hunted look, hung his burly form over the 
gate, and taking off a rather dusty slouch hat, 
bowed with true tramp-like politeness. 

“I beg your pardon folkses,’^ he said in a husky 
voice, “but I has a duty to perform, or I would not 
make so bold as to speak. Which one of you 
ladies is Miss Allen 

“I am Miss Allen,’’ answered that lady, drawing 
202 


THE MODERN LORD-HIGH-EXECUTIONER 203 

a little away from the intruder with an instinctive 
dread. “What can you want with me.?” 

“Don’t bother with the man, Eunice,” said 
Donald. “Leave him to me. Now tell me what 
you want,” approaching the gate, and facing the 
man with a slight frown upon his handsome face. 

“If it’s all the same to you boss,” said the man 
with a leer, “my business is with the lady, and I 
won’t tell it to no other.” 

“If you have anything to communicate,” said 
Eunice, hastily, “you may speak it before these 
people, who are all my friends. I am willing they 
should hear any message you may have for me.” 

“Oh! it’s just as you please,” cried the tramp, 
“but as it was a little information in regards to a 
man you has took a good deal of interest in since 
his trial, I thought maybe as how you mightn’t 
want me to speak out.” 

“You can have nothing to say to me about anybody, 
that I would not wish my friends to hear,” was the 
reply of the lady, and her face flushed as she 
wondered what ill-fortune was portending. 

“Come, my man,” cried Donald, impatiently, 
“speak up or I will help you to move on. State 
your business at once.” 


204 the modern lord-high-executioner 

‘‘Don’t get rattled,” cried the man with a scowl. 
“I just wanted to warn the lady agin a man who 
isn’t any good to no one, that’s all.” 

“Of whom are you speaking asked Eunice, 
sternly. 

“I mean that man Forbes, as you call him, who 
was tried the other day. His name ain’t Forbes 
at all. He is one of the gentlemen of our gang, 
and we call him Dandy Dick. I ain’t no account 
myself, but the boys don’t want to see him make 
a fool of decent folks when he is a regular crook. 
Why bless your soul, he cracked that fellow Den- 
nison all right.” 

Eunice turned pale, and trembled like a leaf at 
the words of the man, though she strove to appear 
calm. She tried to speak, but could not, and her 
cousin came to her assistance. He had taken an 
interest in Hector himself, and had already assisted 
Mr. Allen in the defense he was preparing. 

“Can you tell me why you are so anxious to 
peach on your alleged pal ?” he asked with a sneer. 
“My idea of criminals is that there is a certain kind 
of honor among them.” 

“That’s just it,” said the tramp, with a chuckle. 
“This fellow peached on a pal of mine once, and 


THE MODERN LORD-HIGH-EXECUTIONER 20$ 

he got six years on the charge, so you see I want 
to get even. Take a fool’s advice, and drop 
Dandy Dick, or the first thing you know he’ll be 
cracking this house some fine night. He’s a bad 
one he is. No, I ain’t got no more to say, but you 
just drop him, that’s alL^^ 

The man leered over the gate for a moment, and 
then made off at a slow slouching gait, leaving the 
little group to wonder. 

“There,” cried Miss Laclaire excitedly. “Didn’t 
I tell you that he was guilty.^ I am never mis- 
taken. Come dear, don’t worry, even if he did 
save your life once. Come into the house, and 
forget all about it.” 

This was too much for quiet, pretty Lola. She 
loved Eunice with all her heart, and believed that 
her hero was a true man and every inch a martyr, 
and her indignation arose at the words of the 
heartless, worldly woman. 

“Eunice knows better than to take the word of 
the first tramp that happens to give evidence 
against a friend,” she cried passing an arm affec- 
tionately about the waist of her friend, and draw- 
ing her to her in a pretty caress. “As for myself, 
I will not believe one word against him until we 
hear more.” 


2o6 the modern lord-high-executioner 

“Oh, you are welcome to believe what you 
please,” was the sarcastic reply, “but goodness 
deliver me from that little trusting nature of yours.” 

The languid beauty strolled toward the house, 
leaving the others still on the lawn, and Donald 
gazed after her with a troubled look, then back again 
at the sparkling eyes of Lola, who was lavishing 
sweet comfort upon her friend, and who was almost 
ready to break down at the new evidence 
against her hero. The young man saw in that 
brief moment the grand true character of the 
girl, and wondered not a little that he had not 
noticed before how beautiful she really was. A 
whole world of thought and possibility opened up 
before him in that one glance of comparison be- 
tween the two. 

“I don’t believe a word of it,” Lola was sa3dng 
with decision. “I am sure somebody has made up 
this story, just to deprive him of our friendship. 
I am going to follow that man, and see where he 
goes to. Wait a moment, and I will get on my 
hat.” 

Before anybody could say a word to stop her, 
she ran into the house, and was back in a few 
moments with a light wrap thrown over her, a veil 


THE MODERN LORD-HIGH-EXECUTIONER 20/ 

covering her face sufficiently to make recognition 
difficult. Eunice and Donald tried to dissuade 
her from her purpose, Donald offering to go him- 
self, but she would not hear of it. 

“He will never recognize me,” she cried, “and 
if you should venture to follow him, he would 
know you in a minute. If I find where he goes, 
to, you may make inquiries afterward,” and the 
excitable little lady flew out of the gate, after the 
man who was just slouching around a corner 
several blocks away. 

The man was evidently afraid of being followed, 
for he made several turns in his course, which 
gradually topk him and his little pursuer away 
from the more stylish portion of the city, to where 
the retail blocks of buildings with tenements above 
the stores filled the streets. He had gone about 
a mile and a half, when he paused in front of one 
of these large buildings, looked around a moment, 
and then disappeared in the entrance. Lola 
passed swiftly to the same side of the street, and 
paused in front of the same entrance for the 
purpose of ascertaining its number, when a man 
w’alked slowly up, as if he was about to mount the 
stairs. Lola spoke to him to enquire if private 

14 


2o8 the modern lord-high-executioner 

families lived upstairs, when she was astonished 
to find that the man was Forbes. She raised her 
veil at once, and greeted him calmly. She was 
sure it was he, although she had met him but 
once, at the office of Mr. Allen. 

“Miss Riche,” he cried, flushing slightly. It 
always moved him to see any friend of Miss Allen’s. 

“This is an unexpected pleasure.” 

“Tell me, was her question, in answer, “what 
you were going up those stairs for. You do not 
live there.^” 

“You seem worried over something,” was his 
reply. “Will you not step upstairs with me.^ I 
was calling to see a poor family that I promised a 
poor fellovv^ now serving his sentence I would look 
after and help if possible. If you are a member 
of any church society, perhaps you can do good 
here.” 

Lola felt as if a load had been lifted from her 
heart. She had feared when she had seen him 
about to enter that house, that what the tramp 
had said about him was true. It did look black 
to see them come so closely together. But now 
she had only to accept his invitation, to prove 
to her own satisfaction that there were no grounds 


THE MODERN LORD-HIGH-EXECUTIONER 20g 

for her fears. She therefore mounted the stairs 
with him, to the third floor, where he rapped 
lightly upon a door in the rear portion of the hall- 
way. A soft voice from within bade them enter, 
preceded by the patter of little feet, which showed 
that there were children within. 

They entered a room, which though poorly fur- 
nished, bore the marks of neatness. There was no 
more furniture than was barely necessary, and the 
table, spread with a white cloth, the cook stove 
in the corner, and the chairs drawn up to the back 
window, showed that the room sufficed for a sitting- 
room, dining-room and kitchen combined. There 
was a small piece of carpet at one end, in what 
might be called the parlor portion, and there was 
an odor of coffee and boiled cabbage from the 
simmering kettles on the cook stove. Two chil - 
ren dressed plainly in checked calico gazed in such 
open mouthed wonder at the lady as she entered, 
that they forgot to greet Hector, whom they recog- 
nized as a welcome friend whose pockets had before 
then produced great stores of candy, judged by 
their limited knowledge of sweets. 

^^This is a little lady friend of my good angel, 
Vv^hom I have spoken to you about so often,” said 


210 THE MODERN LORD-HIGH-EXECUTIONER 


Hector, and the pale little woman drew out a 
chair and dusted it with her apron for her visitor 
to occupy. 

; “Any friend of Mr. Forbes’ is thrice welcome 
to my humble home,” she said in a sweet voice, 
in which was the suspicion of tears. “He has 
done so much for us, and until brother came, I 
don’t know what we would have done without 
him.” 

“Mrs. Cary exaggerates,” said Hector, laughing 
softly. “I could do but little, for all that I had I 
owed to the kindness of Mr. Allen. He and his 
daughter are often prayed for in this place.” 

“Indeed they are,” cried Mrs. Cary, wiping the 
corner of her eye with her apron, “and may heaven 
hear them, say I. But that does not lessen the 
worth of this young man. He promised my poor 
husband that he would look after us, and he kept 
his word, though he was in sore trouble himself, 
and hunted us up just as we were on the verge of 
starvation, dividing what he had with us. Good 
Juck never comes alone, for a showtime after, my 
brother, who was away out west, came to the 

city, and found us, and he has been living with us 
)> 


ever since. 


THE MODERN LORD-HIGH-EXECUTIONER 21 1 


“How is he getting along?” asked Hector. 

“Oh, nicely, thanks. He has a good position 
as a drayman, and provides for us nicely. If he 
only wouldn’t touch liquor once in a while, I would 
be perfectly content, considering the way fate has 
treated me. He has not been home since last 
night at supper, and I am afraid he has been on 
another spree. They do not last long though, 
and he will be home to supper soon. I wish you 
could meet him. He is such a nice fellow, with 
only that one fault.” 

“He must be real good,” said Lola, “to take 
such nice care of you. I hope he is not trouble- 
some when he is in liquor.” 

“Oh, bless you no,” was the answer. “He never 
comes home at all until he is all over it, and he is 
always so sorry, and says he will try and not touch 
it again.” 

“You are sure you have everything you want?” 
enquired Hector, who was emptying his pockets 
of several packages of candy for the delectation of 
the juveniles, who scampered away with it with 
cries of delight. 

“Everything, thank you. Wait, here is John 
now,” she cried as there was a step on the stairs 
and a knock at the door. 


212 THE MODERN LORD-HIGH-EXECUTIONER 

She ran at once to open it, and admitted a tall 
broad shouldered workman, a miller evidently, for 
his jeans suit was covered with the dust that could 
not be brushed off. He stepped into the room, 
and cast his eyes upon the floor, at the same time 
twirling his hat in his hand awkwardly. 

“Well Pat Shannon,’^ cried Mrs. Cary a trifle 
alarmed. “What is the matter.^ Has John gotten 
into any trouble.^” 

The man looked up for a moment furtively, and 
again his eyes sought the floor. He was nervous, 
and shifted about from one foot to the other. 

“Well, can’t you speak.?” she cried. 

“I can speak well enough, Mrs. Cary,” the man 
mumbled, “but it’s not so aisy to find somethin’ 
to say.” 

“Come my man, if you have any message, out 
with it,” cried Hector. “Don’t you see that you 
are making the lady nervous.?” 

“Sure sir, I can’t help it,” apologized the man. 
“It’s not Pat Shannon as can give a poor woman 
bad news.” 

“Pat Shannon,” cried the now thoroughly 
alarmed woman, standing in front of him, and 
shaking his arm roughly, ^'‘where is my brotherV^ 


THE MODERN LORD-HIGH-EXECUTIONER 213 


the morgue , came the reply with a groan, 
and the strong man had to put forth his arm to 
prevent the woman from falling at the blow. 

^‘You mean that he is dead she questioned, 
steadying herself until she dropped into a chair, 
all the life gone from her face. 

“I mean that John is dead. Shot dead last 
night.” 

There was silence for several moments. Lola 
felt a strong desire to go to the poor woman and 
comfort her, but a look from the sufferer warned 
her away for a time. Hector saw the uselessness 
of words at that moment, and waited in silence. 
Finally the voice spoke again, but it was broken 
and faint. 

“Tell me about it,” she said. 

“Well, you see Mrs. Cary,” began the man 
uneasily, “I didn’t see it myself, and the boys as 
were with him, they wouldn’t come to tell you, 
feelin’ kin a guilty like. It was them as wanted 
John to go on the spree, though he wouldn’t go 
at first. You see John and two of the other boys 
took a drop too much last night and raised a bit of 
a disturbance. The policeman on the beat rang 
for the patrol wagon, and collared John and another 


214 the modern lord-high executioner 


of the boys. The other one with John, that’s 
Tim McShane, told how it was first, and the 
officers say the same thing. You see John is bold 
like when he is a little off, and after the wagon had 
gone a little ways he jumps over the side, and 
makes off. The cop in the wagon takes after him, 
but John was too swift for him, and John would 
have cut clear away, only when he was running 
down the sidewalk, he passed another policeman, 
who had just stepped in a doorway, to try a store 
door. This cop didn’t know what was up, but he 
saw John a running, and another cop after him, 
so he called to him to halt. John kept on run- 
ning, and the cop up and shot him clear through 
the back. He lies dead this minute on the slab at 
the morgue.” 

“Why didn’t they let me know of this before.^” 
was the calm question. 

“Well, you see they wanted to wait until after 
the inquest, so as not to have you worried before. 
Now it’s all over, and they sent me to tell you.” 

“All gone,” wailed the poor woman, though her 
eyes were dry The fountain of grief had been 
dried of its tears long before. “Husband in 
prison; brother killed. Oh just heaven, are there 


THE MODERN LORD-HIGH-EXECUTIONER 2 I 5 

no more needed to appease thy wrath ? If there 
are, oh take thou me, for I am ready.’^ 

There was a patter of feet, and the children, 
who had finished their candy, clambered about her 
knees, and looked into her face. 

“What is the matter, mamma?” cried one of 
them. “You are sorry about something.” 

“It is nothing, my children,” said the brave 
woman, trying to smile on them.. “Go back to 
your play in the other room.” 

Her dry eyes watched them as they scampered 
,away at her command, and a sob shook her frame. 

“You say the inquest is over,” inquired Hector. 
“What was the verdict against the policeman?” 

“The verdict, is it?” cried the tnan, raising his 
huge frame, and striking his doubled fist into his 
other hand with such force as to crush the hat into 
shapelessness. “The verdict was that the shooting 
was justified, but that the cop was a little hasty 
— *damn them.” 


* A case identical with this one, in which the same verdict was returned, 
occured November 2, 1892, and the verdict was recorded on the following day 
and is a matter of record, in the Minneapolis municipal records. — Author. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

A SMALL CONSPIRACY. 

True hearted Lola was the good angel in the 
family of Mrs. Cary, who was utterly broken down 
over the loss of her brother, and the blow had 
come so suddenly that she was prepared to give up 
the battle at last, and succumb to inexorable fate. 
It was Lola however who came like a smile from 
the better land above, and breathed hope again 
into that tired heart. The beautiful girl was like 
a ray of sunlight in that sorrow-stricken home, and 
when she informed Eunice that she had determined 
to offer to mind the children for the poor woman 
while she attended her brother’s funeral, that young 
lady not only urged her to do so, but wished to 
accompany her. 

“Oh, no,” Lola said. “I can take care of my- 
self, and besides you have a weighty matter upon 
your mind, and have no time for other things.” 

“Why, what do yon mean Lola.^” Eunice asked. 

216 


A SMALL CONSPIRACY 


217 


“Oh, I am not blind. I only hope he is worthy 
of such regard, and that the story that man told us 
has not a word of truth in it.’’ 

“You think you have discovered a secret, Lola,” 
was the retort, “but you have not been too careful 
of your own. I have read your glances when they 
have watched a certain cousin of mine, and I can 
tell you — ” 

But Lola did not wait to hear more, but fled 
from the room and house, her heart palpitating 
strangely, frightened that another should have 
surprised a secret she had thought was locked safely 
in her own breast. 

Mrs. Cary welcomed her with heartfelt thanks, 
and shortly after left the young girl alone with the 
two children, whom the mother had thought best 
to have left at home, as they had seen enough of 
sorrow in their little lives to make it best that they 
be kept from this last blow. Lola was an adept 
in amusing children, and the time passed rapidly. 

They were in the little bedroom off from the 
main room, where the young lady was cutting out 
paper dolls and dresses for the benefit of her young 
charges, when she was startled by the sound of a 
familiar voice, that seemed almost at her elbow. 


2i8 


A SMALL CONSPIRACY 


She turned at once, and saw that the room had 
originally been one of a suite, and that folding 
doors had once connected it with the next one. 
They had been boarded up with matched lumber, 
over which wall paper had been spread. The 
thin partition allowed the sound of a voice to be 
quite distinct, especially if raised above a low 
tone, and she distinctly heard voices on the other 
side. Still pretending to heed the prattle of the 
children, she strained her ears to listen, and heard 
a conversation which caused her heart to beat with 
exultation. 

“Oh, I fixed him all right,’’ came a hoarse voice 
through the wood. 

“What did you say?” came a question in a higher 
key, in tones which seemed familiar to the listener. 

“I went up to the place you described, and saw 
the folks out on the grass at the side of the house. 
I gave them a great song and dance about how the 
bloke wasn’t Forbes at all, but one of our gang, 
and I gave him a bad record, you can gamble.” 
This was followed by a coarse laugh, that made 
Lola shiver. 

“How did they seem to take it?” asked the other 
voice. 


A SMALL CONSPIRACY 


219 


“Oh, it broke the girl all up, and the fellow 
there got hot. I heard a girl say as how she 
always thought he was a jail-bird. Ha, ha, ha! 
These women are always ready to say, H told you 
so/^^ 

“Well, you made a good job of it,’^ was the 
reply, “and here is the money I promised you.” 

There was a grunt of satisfaction from the gruff 
voice and the sound of money clinking on a table 
was heard. Then the shuffling of feet, as if one 
of them was preparing to depart. The girl had 
been worked up to a great pitch of excitement at 
the conversation, for she knew now that the man 
had been hired to malign the man in whom her 
friend took such an interest. If they took such 
trouble to blacken him, it must be that he was not 
guilty. She felt that she must know who that 
man was and, with a hasty command to the chil- 
dren to await her return, she flew to the door, and 
opened it a trifle, enough so that she could see into 
the hall. The door to the next room opened, but 
the hall was too dark to see who it was that 
stepped out, and walked to the top of the stairs. 
She saw he was tall, and well-dressed. She was 
frantic to discover his identity, but she dared not 


220 


A SMALL CONSPIRACY 


step out. The man went down the stairs, and 
about half way down spoke to some one who was 
ascending. 

Lola swung the door open, and flew to the 
railing and looked over, but sprang back immedi- 
ately, for a head appeared before her that she 
knew well. It was too late to retreat, for the 
new-comer had greeted her with unmistakable 
pleasure. 

^^You look quite startled at seeing me. Miss 
Riche,” said Donald Tremaine, laughing as he 
doffed his hat. ‘4 had not hoped for such a recep- 
tion.” 

Lola’s face flushed, but she had presence of 
mind enough not to forget her one desire at the 
moment. 

“Who was that man you passed on the stairs,” 
she enquired almost appealingly. 

“The one who went down as I cariie up.^ That 
was Mr. Vosse of unpleasant memory,” was the 
answer. 

“Ah! Mr. Vosse,” repeated she, a whole world 
of meaning in her tone. “I might have known it.” 

“You haven’t invited me in yet,” said her visitor, 
in a mischievous manner. “I called expressly to 
see you.” 


A SMALL CONSPIRACY 


221 


Lola stepped into the room, her face rosy red, 
and the young man followed her. He possessed 
himself of a chair unasked, and began to talk quite 
volubly, as if he feared he would be sent off 
summarily. 

“Eunice thought you might be lonesome,’’ he 
explained, “so I told her I would step around and 
keep you company for a little while. I was glad 
of the opportunity, as, to tell the truth, they were 
all getting quite tiresome, especially Miss Laclaire, 
and I was glad to seek some refreshing company. 
So here I am. Now you may proceed to be en- 
tertained.” 

Little Lola’s heart beat rapidly, but she nerved 
herself to be agreeable, and Donald was astonished 
to find what a treasure of pretty womanhood he 
had overlooked in this sweet girl. He saw how 
tenderly she cared for the poor little lonely child- 
ren, noticed how her pretty presence brightened 
even that gloomy room, and thanked heaven in his 
inmost heart, that he had not been foolish enough 
to become entangled with that very worldly woman 
who had been so quick to say that she believed 
everybody was guilty of everything of which they 
were accused. As for Lola, in spite of her dis- 


222 


A SMALL CONSPIRACY 


quietude in his presence, she was too happy to 
note the speeding of the hours, and the dusk of the 
evening was upon them before she was warned 
that it was time to be getting some supper for the 
hungry children. 

She went at it at once, and the polished young 
man of society begged to assist, so when Mrs. Cary 
returned from her sorrowful duty, she caught them 
both bent over the stove, frying potatoes and 
mutton chops. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS. 

It was the day before the one set for the second 
trial of the case of John Doe; a day nearly spent, 
for the sun had lost itself behind the earth, yet 
had left a memory of past glory in the blazing 
windows in a distant church spire. Woman like, 
Eunice had not evinced any too great interest in 
the approaching event,’ though at heart she was 
greatly in earnest, and worried as to the probable 
outcome. A dozen times she had been on the eve 
of asking her father how the case progressed, but 
there were so many about them, that it was hard 
to secure a moment alone with him. She had 
learned however that he had been successful in 
securing an order for a new trial from the jinlge, 
on account of newly discovered testimony, and 
with that she was obliged to be content. At last 
she was overcome with curiosity, and urged on 
by her interest, she resolved to learn from her 

father how the case stood. 

223 


15 


224 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS 


As the time drew near for the home coming of 
the attorney, she took up her position in the large 
tower window, that overlooked the street down 
which it was his custom to drive home. Heavy 
Persian portieres shut the window partially off 
from the room, and a huge curtained arch opened 
to the rear, into what was called the music-room, 
in which was the piano and its environments. In 
the music-room were gathered young Tremaine, 
Miss Bearing, Aunt Rachel and Miss Laclaire, 
discussing small talk with such gusto that the 
babel of voices reached Eunice in her window. 
Busy with her thoughts she paid little attention to 
the conversation, scraps of which would neverthe- 
less break upon her thoughts occasionally. 

She had a twofold purpose in watching for her 
father, for although it was true that she wished to 
see him alone, she knew also that Hector would 
often accompany him as far as the gate, engaged 
in animated talk, and then turn and retrace his 
way down town. Aside from several glimpses of 
him at such times, Eunice had not seen him since 
the day she had been startled by the sight of him 
when he was being tried in the court. Even then 
no glance had passed between them. Hector had 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS 


22 $ 


never once allowed his direct glance to rest upon 
the house, so could not see the earnest face at the 
window, whose owner was hoping, yet fearing 
one look from the eyes of the man who, though 
under a cloud, she felt drawn toward, more than 
any man she had ever known. Patiently the fair 
woman watched at the window, fingering aimlessly 
the leaves of a book, no word of which had been 
read, yet the expected one did not arrive. Some- 
thing was keeping him later than usual. 

While she waited at the window, the conversa- 
tion in the other room gradually assumed a shape, 
and before she knew it, she was following its 
thread. 

“I can’t see for the life of me,^’ Miss Laclaire 
was saying, ‘‘how you two children came to be en- 
gaged. You are forever at cross-purposes, and 
never get together but what you are disputing 
over some point.” 

“Everybody does the same,” was the half-laugh- 
ing answer of Blanche. “Look at Eunice and 
Vosse foEinstance. They are at daggers dravx^n 
all the time.” 

“That reminds me,” was Mabel’s answer, “What 
a great mistake Eunice is making in treating that 


226 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS 


man so. He would be a splendid match for her, 
and she could have him for the asking.” 

“Perhaps she is not one of the kind of women 
who would ask,” cried Charley. “Don’t judge 
others by yourself.” 

“Children, children,” expostulated Aunt Rachel, 
“don’t quarrel. Unkind words are easily spoken, 
but can never be recalled.” 

“Oh! I don’t mind them,” said Mabel with a 
slight sneer. “Children often speak without think- 
ing. In all seriousness though, I am greatly wor- 
ried about Eunice. She must have some reason 
for treating Mr. Vosse so badly, and I am inclined 
to think it is all owing to some mad infatuation 
she has for that criminal she has prevailed upon 
her father to defend. It is such a pity. I don’t 
see how she can be so blind.” 

“She owes the young man a debt of gratitude,” 
broke in Aunt Rachel, mildly. “I am sure that 
is all. Besides, perahps he is not a criminal after 
all.” 

At this point Eunice at her seat in the window 
was on the point of rising and comfronting the 
speakers. Her face flushed angrily, and she half 
rose from her chair, but second thought caused her 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS 


227 


to remain quiet. The subject was a sore one with 
her, and she resolved not to take trouble upon her- 
self that she could avoid by keeping away from it. 
She calmed herself therefore, and heard them out. 

“Great goodness, Miss Allen, cried Mabel, “have 
you gone over to the other side too.^ You were 
always of the opinion that there was not the least 
question as to his guilt. Everybody says so. You 
know that well enough.^’ 

“Well, perhaps everybody is mistaken,” was 
Aunt Rachel’s mild reply. “I can’t help remem- 
bering what I so often say in church. ^From 
envy, hatred and from all uncharitableness, good 
Lord deliver us.” 

“Good! Aunt Rachel,” cried Charley impulsively. 
“You’re a brick.” 

“And Mabel isn’t, that’s what,” voluntered 
Blanche. 

“Dear child,” remonstrated Aunt Rachel, “where 
did you get your slang .^” 

“’T’isn’t slang,” cried Blanche, “it’s according 
to Hoyle, isn’t it Charley.^” 

“The trouble is,” said that young man, giving 
his sweetheart an approving glance, “Miss Laclaire 
feels to entirely certain of the success of her own 


228 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS 


love affair, that she has too much time to attend 
to those of others. Donald and she are all O. K. 
you know, so she has time to feel for others.’^ 

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘All O. K. ’, 
but Mr. Tremaine and I certainly understand each 
other far better than any of the other prospective 
couples in this house. 

“Wouldn’t you be surprised now, cried Blanche 
with a little giggle at the idea, “if my future 
brother-in-law should disappoint you by not un- 
derstanding you near as well as you think. 

“Blanche, you are insufferable,” retorted her 
friend, and the rustle of her skirts told that she 
had arisen from her chair in the height of her 
anger. 

“Oh, perhaps I am,” said that young lady, “but 
the idea occurred to me when I noticed that 
Donald was coming down the street apparently 
deeply engrossed with Miss Riche. Here they 
come now. By the way, Charley dear, did you 
ever notice what a really handsome girl Lola is.^^” 

This last was quite enough for Miss Laclaire. 
She gave one glance out at the window, and saw 
her prey approaching with a rival she had never 
in her conceit even fancied fear for, and almost 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS 


229 


bursting with rage, she swept out of the music- 
room, through the adjoining one, into the hall and 
up the stairs to her own room. At the same time 
Eunice saw her father approaching, and flew to 
meet him at the door, for he was alone. Hector 
not being with him. 

“Here we are, little girl,’’ cried the attorney 
heartily, lifting her from the floor as he kissed her 
lovingly. “Better late than never you know, as 
the man said who inherited a fortune on his death 
bed.” 

“What odious similes you attorneys do have, 
papa. What kept you so late.^’ I have been 
watching for you.” 

“There’s a light in the window, shines ever 
bright for me,” sang the attorney. “Well, you see 
that case of Forbes’ comes off to-morrow, and I 
wanted to have everything ready so that it would 
run along like a new bicycle. It kept me a little 
later than usual, for I had a couple of witnesses 
come down from up country, and I wanted to get 
the run of their evidence before I put them on 
the stand.” 

“You are unusually gay to-night, papa,” said his 
daughter, drawing him into the reception-room 


230 


COUNTING UNHATCEED CHICKENS 


where they could be alone, and helping him off 
with his overcoat. ‘^Does that mean that you are 
quite sure to win our case.?’’ 

She was behind him as she asked the question, 
and he could not see the deep interest in her face, 
nor the tremble to her lips as she asked the ques- 
tion. 

“Win the case, he cried, chuckling a little. 
“No, we will not win it, for it is already won. 
I never went into court with such a good case in 
my life. We will surprise the state.” 

The good news overcame the listener to such an 
extent that she glided around and flung her arms 
tightly about her father, and thanked him with 
a caress. There v/as something in the very act, 
which startled the attorney, and he led his daugh- 
ter to the window, for the shadov/s were beginning 
to creep into the room with the approaching night. 
She tried to turn her face away that he might not 
read its tell-tale flush, but he put his hand beneath 
her chin, and held the beautiful countenance so 
that there was no concealment. 

“I am afraid my little daughter had some other 
motive than gratitude in the defense of this young 
man,” he said gravely. “God help me if my sus- 
picion bodes us ill,” 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS 


231 


“Pray, papa, do not — ” 

“Do not speak to me now,” interrupted he 
kindly. “Wait. Leave me to myself in this 
matter. I have graver things for the morrow, and 
must put this by. A human liberty is at stake, 
and justice to be forced from the law. In the 
face of that, even the heart sorrows of a lawyer 
must rest for the day.” 

With that he gently but firmly unclasped her 
arms from about him, and left the room. There 
was not a motion of unkindness, but Eunice sank 
upon the sofa feeling more desolate than she had 
in years. It was her first misunderstanding with 
her parent. As she sat there in the gathering 
gloom, a sense of utter desolation came over her 
as she viewed the future. Linked by ties of love 
to a man accused of crime, however innocent he 
might be, what could there be for her. Even 
though she knew him guiltless, would not the 
world turn to him a cold shoulder, for it was pro- 
verbially uncharitable. Even though she should 
tr}^ with her own friendship to make this fact less 
apparant to him, would not the feeling that he was 
under a ban hold him aloof, and prevent him 
from ever confessing to her his love; for that he 


232 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS 


loved her, she was as certain as if his vows had 
already been spoken, and her lips were warm with 
the memory of the betrothal caress. Why was it 
that the world and fate had treated her so cruelly ? 

With her face buried in her hands, and her 
form half bent over the sofa, upon the arm of 
which her elbows were resting, Eunice was not 
aware that a form entered the room now shrouded 
in shadow, and approached the troubled girl 
timidly. It paused a moment irresolutely, and then 
the voice of Lola broke the stillness. 

“Is that you, Eunice dear.?” it said tenderly. 

Eunice started to an upright position, and forced 
a smile forgetting that the darkness was her friend 
in that it hid her perturbation. 

“Yes,” she answered softly. She always had a 
kind word for dear little Lola, no matter what 
the circumstances. “What is it dear.?” 

For answer, the sweet girl glided to the side 

of her friend, and nestled like a bird beside her, 

flinging both arms about her lovingly. She did 

not speak at once, but buried her face in the 

bosom of her friend, as if the darkness did not 
already hide her blushes. 

“Well, what is it little one.?” asked Eunice, 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS 


233 


passing one hand caressingly over the clinging 
form until it found the softly tressed head and 
stroked the silken hair. “You are trembling. Is 
aught amiss.?” 

“Oh! no! no! Everything is far from amiss. 
Dear, dear Eunice, I am so happy,” and again the 
face was buried against her confidant until the last 
words were muffled. 

“Come, Lola, be sensible,” said Eunice becom- 
ing a trifle impatient. “I never was good at enig- 
mas, and you are certainly acting strangely. What 
is it that troubles you .? for there certainly is some- 
thing.” 

“Can't you guess, Eunice.? I am too happy to 
tell.” 

“No, I cannot guess.” 

How strange it was that others who loved her 
could be so happy while she was so miserable, so 
utterly bereft of any future that could give a single 
glow of happiness to her life. 

“Well then,” came the answer with a great sigh 
as the small head was lifted away from the close 
contact, “I suppose I will have to tell you. He 
has proposed.” 

cried Eunice, astonished. “And who is 


234 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS 


He? I did not know there was any chance of there 
being a He^ 

“Oh! how stupid you all are. Why I mean Mr. 
Tremaine — Donald you know,” 

Then as the ice was broken, and evidently fear- 
ing for her friend’s answer, Lola rattled on as if 
her life depended upon it. 

“You see Donald and I went driving this after- 
noon, and when we were out near the lake, the 
conversation sort of drifted that way, and he told 
me how he had admired me, and so on, until 
finally he asked me to be his wife. It quite took 
my breath away, for it was so unexpected you 
know.' Wasn’t it.^” 

“I should think so. And what did you say.^” 

“Goodness, I have quite forgotten. I am really 
afraid I didn’t say anything, but he seemed to think 
I said ‘yes’ for he acted like it anyway.” 

“So you are engaged. Well, Donald is a good 
fellow, and I think a great deal of him, I hope you 
will both be happy, and I wish you joy from the 
bottom of my heart So here’s a kiss for yourself, 
and another for Donald. But what w/// Mabel say.? 
She had quite set her heart upon your future 
husband.” 


COUNTING UNHATCHED CHICKENS 


235 


you know, I don’t like Mabel. She is so 
airy, and she believes bad of everybody. I know 
very well she set her cap for Donald, and at one 
time it nearly broke my heart, for I thought she 
would win him. He was too sensible though, 
wasn’t he, dear.^^ Not that I am such a great catch, 
but she is so worldly and cold. But here I am 
running on in this way, and I know you are worried 
over that trial. How my happiness must jar upon 
you.” 

Don’t let any thought of me worry your dear 
little heart,” said Eunice bravely, but the quick 
ears of her friend caught the false tones. 

“Oh, but I shall. Just let me be your gypsy for 
a moment. Your hero will be found as pure as the 
snow, and he will love you to distraction, and you 
will both be happy, as happy as I am now, see if — ” 
“Hush dear,” cried Eunice, in a pained voice. 
“You know not what you say.” 

“Oh, but I do,” replied the irrepressible girl. 
“And I will say just what I want to, for I am 
going to be your cousin. Oh, will not that be 
sweet, to be really a relative of the girl I love 
best of any one on earth — except Donald, of course. 
There’s the bell now, and we’re not dressed for 
dinner.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER. 

It was the beginning of the end, not only for 
Hector Forbes, but for all who were interested in 
his fate. The morning had dawned brilliantly, 
nature apparently smiling upon him in encourage- 
ment, and as it became time for the cases to be 
taken up, even the dingy windows of the large 
court-room, failed to keep out the brilliant morn- 
ing rays of the sun, that streamed across the space, 
creating fantastic bars of moving smoke from the 
official cigar, intermingled with the dust that had 
not yet settled after the morning dusting. 

The first trial of the case, together with the fact 
that the great attorney in civil actions had deigned 
to take up a criminal cause and, had been success- 
ful in obtaining a new trial, had so aroused public 
interest that the room was crowded to the utmost 
when the judge mounted the steps and seated him- 
self. The raised tiers of benches arranged in a 
236 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


237 


semicircular form about the room were packed with 
people, and every available chair had been dragged 
in from other court-rooms, to fill up the space be- 
tween the clerk’s desk and the railing. Nor was 
that sufficient to seat the throng, that continued 
to file into the room, and take up standing posi- 
tions wherever people were allowed to stand. 
There were a large number of ladies in attendance, 
but Eunice was absent as well as Lola and the 
other ladies of the attorney’s household, as it was 
feared their presence would excite remark. The 
former was at home, patiently awaiting the out- 
come, outwardly, though inwardly her mind was 
in a torment, in spite of the reassuring words of her 
father the day before. Donald, Charley, and 
Vosse were there, the latter occupying a seat close 
to Mr. Allen, who had not been informed by his 
daughter of the plot he had formed for the purpose 
of blackening the character of Hector in her eyes. 

There was the same routine in calling the case 
as before, the only difference noticable being the 
actions of the court and the prosecuting attorney 
toward Mr. Allen, who was treated with the utmost 
courtesy at every move. Mr. Trickle had quietly 
dropped out of the case, but occupied a seat at the 


238 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


defendant’s side of the table, prepared to take 
copious notes during the trial, for the purpose of 
leading the public to believe that he was associated 
with Attorney Allen. Those who had been present 
at the first trial were not long in noticing a marked 
difference in the way the second one was conduc- 
ted, showing the great difference between the 
work of a novice and that of the master hand. 
Mr. Allen was smooth, pleasant and entertaining, 
but withal there was the velveted steel couched 
in his words, that never failed to cut the keener 
for its very elegance. The crowd was not long 
in noticing this, and many were the hopes for his 
success. 

The great attorney began his battle with the jury, 
which he had called in a body. Like the brainy 
lawyer, he did not seek to discover actual or im- 
plied bias to the extreme of having that body of 
twelve men composed of ignoramuses, but aimed 
to secure as many square inches of actual brain 
power as it was possible to obtain from the stock 
on hand. He took the jury list, glanced sharply 
over the men in their seats, and soon had his im.- 
pressions. 

“Mr. Krueger,” he said, “what is your business?” 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


239 


“I’m doing nothing.’^ 

“How long have you been in that business?’* 

“About a year and a half.” 

‘ “Served on a good many juries during that time 
haven’t you?” 

“Not so very — Yes considerable.” 

“Mr. Aldrich, what is your business?” 

“Commission merchant.” 

“How long have you been in that business in 
this city?” 

“Twelve years.” 

“Have you ever heard of this case?” 

“I read of it in the newspapers at the time.” 

“Have you formed any opinion as to the merits 
of the case?” 

“Well yes, I should say so. A man usually 
forms some opinion if he has any mind of his own 
at all.” 

“Do you think evidence either way would influ- 
ence that opinion?” 

“Oh, perhaps. I think perhaps it would.” 

“You are not very anxious to sit upon this case, 
are you Mr. Aldrich?” 

“Well no, not particularly. I had rather be 
with my business,” and the juror smiled a little. 

16 


240 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


“I am very sorry/^ smiled the attorney, “but as 
much of a hardship as it is to business men like 
yourself it is just such men as you, that we need 
to give us healthy verdicts.” 

“So the questioning went on, but it was notice- 
able that while the former attorney, Mr. Trickle 
had succeded in eliminating almost every vestige of 
brain from the jury he was called upon to weed 
out, when the jury was finally sworn in for Mr. 
Allen, there were twelve men, many of whom had 
formed opinions, but all of whom could read, and 
understand English. He had succeeded in getting 
rid of all those who “had no business,” especially 
one who had actually stated that his chief business 
was “sitting on juries” and he therefore began his 
trial with one point in his favor; a jury worthy to 
live in history as being composed of intelligent 
business men, many of them a trifle biased,* but 
honest enough to try a case upon its merits. 

Before the state placed its first witness upon the 
stand, Mr. Allen sprung a slight sensation by re- 
questing that all the witnesses for the state be 
taken out of the room, and examined each out of 
hearing of the other, and then kept apart so that 
they could not adapt their testimony to that of a 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


241 


preceding witness. The court allowed the request, 
and the witnesses for the state were escorted to an 
ante-room, where an officer kept watch over them. 
The complaining witness, Dennison, was then 
placed upon the stand, and gave his testimony 
materially as at the previous trial. Then Mr. 
Allen cleared his throat, and opened his cross ex- 
amination. He was quick, and to the point, but 
the witness kept to his former story well, and 
though the attorney had the printed evidence of 
the former trial at hand, he could pick no flaw in 
it, and a smile was seen to steal from face to face 
of the people of the vast crowd. 

The packages of money, and the pocket-book 
were upon the table, and the attorney reached 
over and possessed himself of the latter, stepping 
up to the witness. 

“You say that the defendant wrested tbis from 
your pocket,” said he. “Now tell me with which 
hand he did so.” 

“He tore my vest open with his left hand, and 
then reached for the pocket-book with his right 
hand, pulling it out of my pocket.” 

“I will put this book in your pocket,” said Mr. 
Allen, suiting the action to the word. “Now is 
this the way he took it?” 


242 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


‘‘Yes, that’s the way,” said the witness positively, 
as the attorney went through the motions. 

“Is that the same vest you had on at the time 
the crime was committed.?” 

“No sir. The other one was spotted with blood, 
and I have not worn it since.” 

“Have you that vest now.?” 

“Yes. I have it at home.” 

“Could you procure it for us.?” 

“Yes. I could send for it.” 

“Is this necessary, Mr. Allen.?” asked the county 
attorney. “It seems to me that it would be wast- 
ing time.” 

“The time of this defendant was wasted for over 
three months in the county jail,” was the reply, 
given with spirit, “and I think the court could 
afford to waste a few minutes. I will ask other 
questi©ns in the meantime.” 

The court was courteous, and allowed a deputy 
to be sent to the residence of the witness with a 
note for the garment. There was a wait of several 
minutes after the attorney had finished his other 
questions, before the vest was brought upon the 
scene, and every eye was strained to see it. It 
was of a dark grey color, and the dark spots of 
blood could be plainly seen. 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


243 


“You are quite sure this is the same vest asked 
Mr. Allen handing it to the witness. 

“Quite sure.’^ 

“Now look at the pocket and, tell me if it has 
been tampered with since you wore it last. Be 
very careful now.” 

“It has never been touched,” said Dennison 
decisively, handing it back to the attorney. 

“Now, Mr Dennison, will you kindly put this 
vest on, so that we may see if it fits you.” 

“Will you introduce clothing experts as to the 
fit.^” asked the county attorney, sarcastically. 

“No,” was the answer. “The jury may deter- 
mine that from its own observations.” 

Meantime the witness had divested himself of 
his coat and vest, and had donned the blood 
stained garment. It fitted him to perfection, but 
the upper button was missing. 

“That’s where the defendant tore it open,” 
volunteered the county attorney, to which Mr. 
Allen did not reply. 

“Now, Mr. Dennison,” continued he, “since you 
have been so kind as to humor us in our whim, 
will you please put this pocket-book in your 
pocket again and, we will show the jury just 


244 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


how it was done, according to your theory.” 

Dennison did as requested, and Mr. Allen under 
instructions, showed the jury exactly how the 
culprit had torn the vest open, and abstracted the 
pocket-book. The crowd looked serious, and his 
fellow attorneys wondered why Allen was playing 
into the hands of the state. 

“Now, Mr. Dennison,” said Mr. Allen, pleas- 
antly, quite cheerfully, in fact, “the money here, 
is that which you state you lost. Are you quite 
sure of that.?” 

“Yes sir! and I wish this case was over, so that 
I could have it to use.” 

“Undoubtedly,” smiled Mr. Allen, quietly taking 
the money and crowding it into the pocket-book 
as he spoke. “Just have patience, for we want 
the jury to see just how this man robbed you.” 

Having put the money into the book, he snap- 
ped a rubber about it, then pressed it as flat as 
possible with a law book. 

“Now, Mr. Dennison, we will go over that pan- 
tomime just once more,” said the attorney, handing 
the witness the well filled book. “Just place that 
in the pocket, and we will soon be through,” 

The witness took the pocket-book eagerly, and 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


245 


holding the vest open with the right hand, sought 
to thrust it into the pocket. It did not drop in as 
readily as had been expected, and the witness 
worked at it for quite a time while the attorney 
looked on apparently quite unconcerned. Grad- 
ually a serious expression came over the face of 
the witness, and, as he worked with feverish haste, 
the color left his cheeks, and beads of perspiration 
began to collect upon his forehead. 

‘4t is rather warm in here,’^ said Mr. Allen 
smoothly. “It would be well for the officer to 
lower a window. The witness is suffering with 
the heat.’’ 

Thus did he adroitly call the atttention of the 
jury and the crowd to the witness’ trouble, for as 
a matter of fact it was-quite cool and comfortable. 
Fully five minutes was the witness engaged in the 
attempt to place the pocket-book in the pocket 
from which he had so specifically stated it had been 
taken, when he ceased his struggles, and rested 
the book upon his knee, looking at the lawyer with 
a haggard face. 

“Well Mr. Dennison, we are waiting,” urged Mr. 
Allen. 

“I — It won’t go in,” gasped the man, now 
thoroughly alarmed. » 


246 IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 

“You certainly must have placed it in there 
many times before/^ was the reply. “Let me see 
what success I will have.” 

The attorney stepped up leisurely, and took the 
book from the unresisting hand of the witness. 
Mr. Allen then begged him to stand closely in 
front of the jury, while he tried to place it in the 
pocket. No sooner had he made the attempt than 
he saw that the pocket was at least an inch too 
small. 

“If the court pleases,” said the attorney, “I 
would like to have each member of the jury 
attempt to put that pocket-book in that vest 
pocket.” 

“Such of the jury as wish, may try it,” said the 
court. “They have that right.” 

Of course they all wanted to, and one by one 
they struggled with the book and the pocket, with 
the same result. The attorney did not wish for 
any further testimony, and allowed the witness to 
depart, the state being too disgusted to question 
him. 

James Brigham was called in without having the 
least idea of what had been testified to except as to 
what he had heard at the previous trial, the com- 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


247 


plaining witness having been seated behind the 
county attorney, and he came in smiling and 
chipper, as if nothing had happened. The case 
of the state proceeded in a half hearted manner, 
for the strength of the case had been so broken by 
the astute attorney that it was almost' certain a 
verdict would not be found. That vest pocket was 
a revelation. Brigham told his story as before, 
and the cross-questioning was short. 

^‘You say you saw him place that money paid 
by you, in this pocket-book, and thrust it into the 
inside pocket of his vest.^ You are prepared to 
swear to that, are you, quite positively.^’^ 

“Oh, quite so. There is not the least doubt of 
it,’^ was the complaisant reply of the witness, and 
the jury and the crowd smiled in derision. 

“What would you say if somebody was to come 
on this stand and swear that he never had a pocket 
in his vest at all.?” 

“I would say that he was the most unequivocal 
liar I had ever encountered,” and the witness 
laughed softly, and wondered a little that every- 
body looked so serious. 

From that time on, the presentation of the 
state’s case was little more than a farce to the 


248 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


vast crowd of people. Upon such a small circum- 
stance does the fate of a human being hinge, that 
the small discrepancy between the size of the 
filled pocket-book and the vest pocket had changed 
the minds, not only of the jury and the crowd, but 
had shattered the belief of the county attorney in 
his own case, to such an extent that he was only 
anxious that it be finished. Could the jury have 
gone out at the conclusion of the state’s testimony, 
without one word from the defense, it is quite 
certain that that body of men would have found 
for the defendant on short notice. The only favor 
any of the witnesses who followed found in the 
eyes of the crowd, was Jailer Mike Bradly, who 
still adhered to his former statement that the de- 
fendant did not act like an ordinary criminal, and 
this time Mike was set down by the crowd as a 
student of human nature of the first class. 

After the state had rested, Mr. Allen was very 
brief in presenting the case to the jury. He re- 
minded them that he had already shown them 
that his client was a martyr to a conspiracy, and 
he proposed toprove it conclusively, and in such a 
manner that the defendant would go from the 
court-room, a free man. He wished to remind 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


249 


them that a former jury had found his client guilty, 
but he was not in the least afraid that the records 
would prejudice any fair minded man in the face 
of the evidence he had been able to secure. 

“At that trial, he said. “The young man 
sitting there had been placed hors de combat by 
an unjust criminal code, that had made it impossi- 
ble for him up to that time, to procure witnesses to 
his innocence. That young man now sits before 
you clothed as the court will tell you, with all the 
assumption of innocence. I propose to call wit- 
nesses who will see that he remains so. Mr. 
Forbes, take the stand.” 

There was a sensation after the defendant had 
been sworn, and his name given in a voice so low 
that few besides the clerk and judge heard him. 

“What is your full name,” asked Mr. Allen. 

“Hector Forbes,” was the calm reply. 

“Where did you reside prior to your coming to 
this city.^” 

“Near Gray’s peak, Colorado.” 

“You may go on, Mr. Forbes, and tell m your 
own language what occurred in Colorado leading 
up to this case, and everything to the circumstance 
of your arrest.” 


250 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


The witness did so, telling in a clear concise 
manner all the events he had testified to before on 
the stand at the first trial, the county attorney 
meantime following his testimony from a transcript 
in typewriter. There were a few differences, how- 
ever, none of them contradictory, but additional. 
Among other things his attorney prompted him to 
tell how when he had placed the money in the 
pocket-book, he had found that the inside pocket 
in his vest was too small to hold it, and he had 
taken it to a tailor, who had made a larger pocket 
out of wash leather, for its reception. He had 
waited in the tailor shop until it was done. To 
corroborate this he exhibited the pocket in the vest 
he wore, which was the identical one he had on 
when arrested. His story told upon the jury, and 
when he accused the two men seated at the table 
of being the ones who had assaulted him, there 
were many indignant looks cast in that direction. 

At the conclusion of his testimony Mr. Allen 
turned to Mr. Bramble. 

“You may take the witness, he said. 

“I don’t care to question him,’’ was the reply. 

Nels Peterson and Harvey Long, two Dakota 
farmers were placed on the stand to corroborate 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


251 


Hector’s testimony as to showing them the money 
in the sleeping car, and Franz Hermann, a tailor 
from Denver as well as Alfred Donnabeck, maker 
and dealer in pocket-books and leather goods from 
the same place further corroborated the story of 
the witness. By this time the audience was worked 
up to quite a pitch of excitement. It had gathered 
there firmly believing John Doe, or rather Hector 
Forbes, as they now knew him, guilty and, the 
revulsion of feeling was strong. An American 
public dislikes nothing so much as injustice, and a 
great wave of sympathy passed over the vast 
audience as the belief came to it that there was 
not the least doubt of the innocence of the accused. 

Mr. Bramble was tired of his case, and did not 
care to cross- question any of the witnesses. The 
defense rested, and it came the time of the county 
attorney to present his case to the jury. He 
astonished everybody by stating that he had noth- 
ing to say. 

“I do not care to waste the time of the court,” 
he said. 

^Hf it please the court, and gentlemen of the 
jury,” said Mr. Allen, rising slowly to his feet. 
“Like my confrere on the other side, I do not 


252 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


care to waste the time of the court, and will say 
but a few words, not to influence your verdict, for 
it would be an insult to intelligent men to presume 
in the face of the evidence, that word of man could 
in any way influence you in arriving at a verdict. 
You can do but one thing; remove from this young 
man the suspicion of a crime, and brand him as a 
martyr. I regret to say that there is no way in 
which you can compensate him for the many days 
that he, an innocent and a wronged man has lan- 
guished behind prison bars, in a dungeon.' The 
law that has made it possible for him to be so un- 
justly confined provides no way in which he can 
be compensated for the great injury to his feelings. 
I can therefore only appeal to this jury as business 
men of this city. I can only beg of this vast 
audience that has gathered here expecting fully to 
see him convicted, that when he has gone from 
this vile place where he has been shown so much 
injustice, you will as man to man, extend to him 
the hand of friendship, that he may feel that no 
man comes to this city to be the victim of an in- 
justice, with the consent of its inhabitants. This 
you all can do, in the cause of humanity.” 

There was a slight murmur of applause as the 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


253 


attorney took his seat, and the judge began his 
charge to the jury, shortly after the noon hour. It 
was much the same as the one delivered before, 
giving the points of law. It did not review the 
evidence, the judge holding that the jury would 
remember it well. Then the officer was sworn, 
and the twelve men filed out into the jury room. 
A portion of the crowd started for home, but the 
majority waited to hear the verdict. The two 
principal witnesses, Dennison and Brigham started 
to leave the room, when a couple of police officers 
touched them on the shoulder, and had them 
under arrest. The crowd saw it, and there were 
several jeering remarks, as the judge had left the 
bench. 

The crowd had not long to wait, for in less than 
two minutes the jury filed back into the room, and 
handed in a verdict of “not guilty.” Hector raised 
his form erect with a great sense of relief, to grasp 
the hand of his attorney and friend. Then the 
crowd broke in, and as if in response to the appeal 
of Mr. Allen, a score of hands were shaking his. 
Then the jury came forward to wring his hand cor- 
dially, and express the pleasure they felt in having 
the privilege of rendering the verdict. It had 


254 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


turned to be a vast reception, in which Hector was 
the hero, yet something was lacking. The face of 
the one he thought the most of, of any one on 
earth was not there. His guardian angel, she who 
had been the means of his bein^ saved from the 
prison walls, had not come to share in his triumph. 

“Young man, allow me to congratulate you,’^ 
said the voice of Mr. Bramble, the county attorney, 
as he extended his hand. “I trust you will not 
bear any malice. If in my position I have done 
you any wrong, I am sorry for it. The case as 
presented to me appeared meritorious, and I only 
did my duty.” 

Hector grasped the hand cordially. 

“I have no fault to find with you sir,” he said. 
“I trust we may be friends.” 

Hector felt the hand of his attorney under his 
arm, and he was led away toward the street, ap- 
parently treading on air. On the way he was 
compelled to shake many hands. The plea of 
Mr. Allen had done its work, and had removed 
every stain from about him. 

At the door the carriage was waiting, and Hector 
was forced in despite his protestations, with Don- 
ald, Charley and Mr. Allen and they were whirled 


IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 


255 


away to the house. Vosse had disappeared. The 
first thing to attact the attention of Hector as the 
carriage approached the Allen mansion, was the 
happy face of Eunice at the window. It disap- 
peared, but not before she had seen him, and 
knew that her father had been true to his promise. 

^^You dine with us to-day,” said Mr. Allen, and 
there was no refusing his almost command. 

Hector’s heart was full to overflowing as he 
entered those hospitable portals. So overpowered 
was he that everything appeared to him as if be- 
held in a dream from which he might awaken at 
any moment, perhaps in that gloomy prison cell. 
It was at the dinner table that he met Eunice, and 
was greeted with a staid and maidenly bow. He 
detected a warmth in her fine eyes, however, that 
belied her quiet demeanor. How he ever passed 
through that meal, he never knew, and if any one 
had asked him a month after, what was set before 
him, he could not have told them. What a change 
there was. All were solicitous that he should feel 
at home, and took care to show him that in their 
eyes no taint of disgrace clung to him. Even 
Mabel Laclaire was impelled to say that she “knew 
it all the time.” 

17 


256 IN THE HANDS OF A MASTER 

Such was the outcome of the second trial. For 
want of money and friends, Hector had languished 
in prison for more than three months. With a 
superficial and brainless attorney, a jury of men 
called by the modern jury system to serve, had 
found him guilty after a long trial. With one 
friend, and plenty of money at command, assisted 
by an attorney who knew his business and a jury 
not composed of brainless idiots, he had been 
cleared in just one half day. So doth the law dis- 
criminate between the rich and the poor, though 
it intends it not. Truly the code itself is more 
wicked than the sin it seeks to punish. 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL. 

Several days later Hector and Mr. Allen called 
upon the county attorney at his office. Overjoyed 
at having obtained his freedom, his heart full to 
overflowing with the possibilities opening up before 
him like a new life, it was not strange that the 
young man had forgotten for the time that he was 
entitled to the possession of some ninety-five hun- 
dred dollars, which could be secured by the very 
simple formula of asking for it. So it came about 
that one afternoon, when Hector was in his office, 
the attorney suggested that it would be as well to 
take the trouble to step to Mr. Bramble’s office 
which was in another portion of the great law 
building, to collect the sum. 

The county attorney was a busy man, but hap- 
pened to be in his office when they called. He 
was a large, handsome man, who always approached 
a caller with a quizzical expression upon his face, 
257 


258 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


while his head was slightly tipped to one side. 
He was a most companionable man, and had not 
the suspicion of antagonism about his address, and 
in spite of himself, Hector could not find it in his 
heart to dislike him. In the most courteous man- 
ner he asked his callers into his private room, and 
shook hands with them both, giving the hand of 
his former prisoner a more than usually hearty 
clasp. 

“I presume you have called for your money,’’ he 
said with a twinkle in his eyes. wondered that 
you were not around before to claim it. Such a 
large amount has worried me somewhat, and I was 
on the eve of sending word to Mr. Allen to call and 
take it away. To make doubly safe however;. I 
had it placed in the deposit vaults in the basement.” 

Taking a key from a well filled ring, he called in 
an assistant, and despatched him for the package. 

“Mr. Forbes appeared to have forgotten all about 
the money in your care until I reminded him of it,” 
explained Mr. Allen as they seated themselves, 
and Mr. Bramble passed round a box of cigars. 

“I am afraid he is a decidedly careless man,” said 
Mr. Bramble. 

“It may appear so to you,” was Hector’s reply, 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


259 


‘‘but if you had passed a series of months in that 
gloomy jail, with no one but criminals for your 
companions, you would find that liberty is a prize 
far greater than legal tender. I never prized liberty 
before but now I place it at its true value, above 
that of anything in the way of wealth or station.’^ 

“Hum, that’s all very well, but money is a very 
good thing,” suggested the county attorney. 

“In law courts, yes. I admit that,” was the 
curt reply. 

“I hope you do not bear any little grain of 
malice toward me as the result of our first enforced 
acquaintance,” said Bramble, partly closing one 
eye as he blew out a cloud of smoke, and tipped 
his head on one side, with his peculiar quizzical 
expression. “I had nothing on earth against you, 
and am prepared to be numbered now, among 
your friends.” 

“Don’t imagine that for a moment,” broke in 
Mr. Allen. “He has spoken quite freely to me, 
and I have never heard him express a thought de- 
rogatory to you, personally.” 

“That is true,” said Hector. “I have nothing 
against the man. It is the system for which I 
entertain the most cordial disgust. From what I 


26 o 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


have learned of the criminal code in my brief but 
telling experience, it is the most stupendously suc- 
cessful failure I ever encountered.” 

The county attorney looked surprised, Mr, Allen 
serious, an old gentleman who had been seated 
back of them in the corner pouring over a legal 
book turned half around, and a voice from behind 
them broke in sternly, “That is a broad assertion, 
sir. What right have you to condemn the work 
of the greatest legal minds of the past?” 

The new-comer pulled a chair before them, and 
joined the circle. It was the judge who had tried 
the criminal cases, and who came so near being 
called upon to sentence Hector. 

“Now you have surprised a hornet’s nest,” 
laughed Mr. Allen, reaching out to accept the 
pocket-book from the hands of the man who had 
been sent for it, and who returned just as the judge 
entered. The interruption prevented further con- 
versation until the bills were counted, and a 
receipt given for the amount. The matter was not 
allowed to rest, however, for the majesty of the 
law had been vilified, and with a judge of the court 
present, an explanation was desired. 

“Come now, young man. Explain yourself,” 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


261 


cried the judge appealing directly to Hector. ‘^You 
have made an assertion, now give us your reasons.^’ 
could wish that I were an attorney,” replied 
Hector, ^^and could couple my experience with a 
certain amount of legal knowledge. As it is, I can 
only argue from the standpoint that would be taken 
by the masses of the people, did they know what I 
know about criminal practice. In my opinion too, 
that will be the common sense view. I first heard 
from your lips, the statement that a man held for 
a crime, is assumed to be innocent until he is 
proved to be guilty in the minds of a jury, beyond 
a reasonable doubt. Assuming that to be the case 
therefore, how did it come that I was imprisoned 
like a criminal for three mortal months, without a 
trial?” 

“You could have had one in the municipal 
court,” said the county attorney. 

“True. With no money, and consequently no 
attorney, for that court does not allow one, and an 
assumedly brilliant man against me; no opportunity 
allowed me to get witnesses, a host of them on 
the other side, and a yawning prison in prospective. 
That would have been a farce. Then I was held 
to the grand jury. There is the buffoonery of the 


262 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


whole criminal system. Were I empowered to 
draft a new version of the prayer book, I would 
have one part read like this: ^From battle, mur- 
der and from grand juries, good Lord deliver us/ 
That grand jury farce was worse than that of the 
municipal court. It met without my knowledge, 
heard all the testimony on the other side, and 
then found an indictment. The first opportunity 
I ever had, to prove my innocence, even with a 
show of justice, was three months after my arrest, 
when the case came to be tried before yourself. 
That I say was the very first, and then I had an 
attorney who should have been apprenticed to a 
carpenter. But for Mr. Allen here, I would even 
now be serving time in the state’s prison. 

“That was not all the fault of the grand jury,” 
explained the judge. “The code says that the 
grand jury shall have the privilege of examining 
witnesses for the defense, if it is not certain a 
crime has been committed.” 

“But it also says distinctly, that it must not 
upon any consideration be allowed to see the pris- 
oner,” broke in an excited voice, and the old gen- 
tleman in the corner wheeled his chair about, and 
faced them, his broad face animated, and his eyes 
kindling. 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 263 

“Hello Tlogers, is this one of your latest crank- 
isms?” asked Mr. Bramble, laughing softly. 

“It is a matter upon which I have studied for 
many years,” was the reply. “This young man 
has wished that he could couple his experience 
with a legal knowledge in order to throw down the 
gauntlet to the law. Well, you will admit the 
legal knowledge on my part.” 

“Oh, certainly Mr. Rogers,” admitted the judge. 
“A man who can retire on his legal laurels need 
not expect to have that point disputed.” 

“Very well then. Now young man, you con- 
fine yourself to your experience, and let me assail 
the legal points, and we will see if we cannot open 
the eyes of this court. To begin with, let me say 
that the grand jury is a humbug. A humbug pure 
and simple, that costs the county thousands of 
dollars each year. You have said that the law 
allows that body to examine the witnesses for the 
defense. In nine cases out of ten, a suspect does 
not know he is to be hauled over the coals by the 
grand jury, so how could the witnesses for the 
defense be examined. In the case of prisoners 
under arrest, who is to summon those witnesses. 
Not the county attorney certainly. He has no 


264 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


business in that direction. In all my experience, 

I have never heard of such a thing as a witness 
being called before a grand jury for the suspect. 
The grand jury is a star chamber which does no- 
body any good, and wrongs many.” 

“That star chamber as you call it,” replied the 
judge, “is the protection to society. The grand 
jury, and each member thereof is protected by the 
solemn oath of each, to reveal nothing that trans- 
pires within the room. That is how it is possible 
to indict men, when were it not kept secret, the 
witnesses would fear to come before it.” 

“A cause that fears the light, is an unjust one,” 
cried the other. “If a man has a just complaint, 
he will never fear to have it known that he pre- 
ferred it. I tell you that the grand jury and the 
anonymous letter, were they each placed on differ- 
ent ends of a balance scale, would each balance 
the other. They are both pernicious, exasperating 
and vilifiers of the innocent.” 

“You are too general in your assertions,” growled 
the judge. “Why don't you give instances.” 

“This young man has done that. The constitu- 
tion gives every man a right to a speedy trial. 
But for the grand jury system this young man 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


265 


would have had one, and he probably could have 
secured his witnesses before they all left the city. 
It was the fact that he must be held to a grand 
jury that made the law keep him a prisoner, inno- 
cent though he was, until the grand jury met. 
You want instances. Read to-day’s paper. A 
grand jury in Iowa has just returned indictments 
againts fourteen reputable druggists for selling 
liquor contrary to law. The prohibition law of 
that state has provided ways for druggists to sell 
liquor, and I do not doubt for a moment but what 
they all lived up to them. The grand jury meets, 
and clothed with secrecy, there are enough lying 
sneaks in that community, to go before that jury 
and, indict those men. They will all be acquitted, 
but see the expense it v/ill put them to in trying 
their cases. The secrecy of the grand jury system 
is an invitation, a temptation to sneaking rogues 
who bear malice toward somebody, to make a false 
representation, to get those they hate into trouble.” 

“Oh, I will admit that the practice is abused,” 
admitted the judge, “but that should not condemn 
the whole system. One swallow does not make a 
summer.” 

Granted. But a flock of swallows would lead a 


266 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


man to begin to think there was something radi-- 
cally wrong with the weather.” 

‘‘Well, have you any further charges t6 fling at 
the statutes?” asked Mr. Bramble. 

“I have hundreds, but they do not occur to me 
at this moment. Had I known this discussion was 
to be held, I would have brought my notes, and I 
think I could have buried you under a mass of 
evidence.” 

The speaker was very much in earnest. He was 
an old man who had practiced law so successfully 
that he had been enabled to retire from his pro- 
fession, with enough money successfully invested, 
to place him in a position to want for nothing. 
The criminal branch of practice had been his 
favorite, and during the time he was practicing 
he had paid little attention to its evils, after retiring 
however he had ample time to give retrospection to 
the past, and had gradually become convinced that 
the criminal code was all WTong, and with that idea 
he had pursued his researches further, with the 
result that he had a profound disrespect for the 
criminal code. For months he had been gather- 
ing statistics to prove his stand, with the ultimate 
object of bringing the matter before the bar asso- 
ciation. 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


267 


wish sir,” said Hector, addressing his new 
found champion with admiration, ‘‘that you could 
have had the experience through which I have 
lately passed, to make you the more certain in the 
stand you have taken. Passing from my own case, 
which in itself is enough to brand the grand jury 
system as infamous, there came under my observa- 
tion the spectacle of a boy not yet out of his teens, 
actually driven to crime. He was imprisoned, and 
soon after, found to be entirely innocent, yet 
he was obliged to remain in jail until the grand 
jury met, to pass upon his case. Another young 
fellow was confined with him, who served the 
same time he did, yet was completing a sen- 
tence after having confessed to a crime. The 
evil influences drove the innocent boy to the bad. 
Before I left the jail he was locked up again after 
having been released, this time actually guilty of 
a theft. I saw a man carried from the jail to the 
hospital, his family starving for want of his sup- 
port, imprisoned because a jury had found him 
guilty of disgracing a girl, on the most gauzy evi- 
dence. On the other hand I saw criminals released 
because they had waived examination in the muni- 
cipal court, and had been held to the grand jury. 


268 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


the witnesses against them having decamped mean- 
time. I saw enough to make me believe that the 
grand jury was a splendid thing to help the guilty, 
but a poor thing for the purpose of assisting the 
innocent.’^ 

“One follows the other,” cried Mr. Rogers. “A 
system that will help the criminal, will have the 
opposite effect upon the innocent. The innocent 
man wants all the light possible thrown upon his 
case. The guilty wants as little as possible. What 
you have seen young man, happened in only one 
term of one judicial district. Multiply that term 
by the several terms in a year, and multiply that 
by the thousand of districts in the country where 
the grand jury holds sway, and you have the 
amount of injustice inflicted upon suffering human- 
ity in one year by the same system we rail against.” 

“Yet as a rule the men brought before me are 
criminals, and suffer no injustice,” said the county 
attorney. 

“That may be true,” answered Mr. Rogers, “yet 
the fact remains that you go upon the principle 
that it is better to let a hundred innocent men 
suffer, than to let one guilty man escape. Yet 
you are mistaken in that very assumption. You 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


269 


all know of this last great forgery case. I have 
seen some poor fellow who has forged a check for 
a dollar or two while in an intoxicated condition, 
convicted and sent over the road for two or three 
years. How about this sprig of society who for 
the past year has forged notes, using his father’s 
name, to the amount of some seventy-five thousand 
dollars. Was he convicted.^ Not he. The father 
was in a distant state, and while he wrote and 
telegraphed to the effect that his son had forged 
his name to the paper, and he was not liable for 
it, he refused to come home to appear before the 
grand jury against his son. Our law is such that 
a deposition, letter or telegram, is not evidence in 
a criminal action, and as the old man was the only 
one who could give evidence that the notes were 
forged the young man went free of prosecution. 
As the law now is, two men might connive at some 
such thing, the rich one go away taking the money 
with him, the other might stay in the city, and a 
conviction could never be secured. A glorious 
state of things.” 

“Granted that this system is as vile as you try 
to make it appear,” said Mr. Bramble. “How 
else would you secure convictions. How on earth 


2^0 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


could a county attorney accomplish anything with- 
out a grand jury?” 

“The very question shows how little you have 
thought over the matter,” was the reply. “How 
do they accomplish anything in Michigan and 
Wisconsin? There they have no grand jury. 
Would it not be an easy matter to have a criminal 
court always in session ready to try a case at any 
Hme? Would it not be as easy for you to prepare 
a case for actual trial, as it would be to prepare 
it for the grand jury? In that way you would save 
half your work, and the man who could not secure 
a bond would not be compelled to lie in prison for 
months at a time.” 

“Oh, it might be done, I suppose,” said the 
judge, in a somewhat doubtful tone. “It would 
necessitate a remodeling of the state constitution.” 

“Yes, it is a constitutional matter,” assented Mr. 
Bramble. 

“I have been somewhat struck by the remarks of 
Mr. Rogers,” volunteered Mr. Allen. “As a rule I 
have not thought much about such matters, but 
now I come to think of it, there is another point 
somewhat against the grand jury system. You 
know there are counties in every state where they 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


271 


do not hold court very regular, sometimes but once 
a year. Not long ago in one of those counties, a 
farmer was arrested charged with arson, and held 
to the grand jury. He was in prison eight months, 
and when the matter was investigated, it was found 
that the man had been held because somebody 
swore he had heard the prisoner say he would 
burn down the house in question. When the 
matter was sifted to the bottom, it was found that 
the man had threatened to horsewhip the man 
whose house had been burned. Rather different. 
There was not the shadow of a case against him, 
and he was set free. He had passed eight months 
in prison however.” 

“Tell me, Mr. Rogers, why the legal profession 
does nothing to correct this fault,” said Hector. 

“Certainly. The matter of doing away with 
the grand jury has often been discussed by bar 
associations, but little interest was ever taken in it. 
A judge on the bench not long ago, in his charge 
to the grand jury, remarked that it. was an evil 
system, and begged that the one he was charging 
would conduct itself in such a thoughtful manner 
that it would somewhat make up for the evil.* 

* Judge Hicks in his charge to the panel of grand jurors at the opening 
of the December 1892 term of court of the Fourth Judicial district of Minne- 
sota. 


18 


2 ^^ THE OFFICIAL EVIL 

The reason lies in the fact that while there are 
several hundred attorneys in this city, there are 
but five recognized criminal attorneys. They con- 
fine themselves to civil practice, and are not inter- 
ested in criminal matters. They go on the princi- 
pal that what is everybody's business is nobody’s. 
It is so in other states, and that is why our 
broad free country still keeps this one remnant of 
slavery in its various statutes.’^ 

“There may be something in what you say,’^ 
remarked the judge. “As for myself, I have always 
looked upon the grand jury as a higher branch of 
the petit jury, which it is generally conceded is 
the only perfect system of trial on earth. Perhaps 
it is imperfect, but it will do.^’ 

“Now judge, there is where you have touched 
me,” cried Mr. Allen. “I have every respect for 
the petit jury system, but the practice is about 
the most exaggerated farce that was ever foisted 
upon a bar. I have one example in mind now. 
I remember how Judge Hooker of this bench, 
leaned over the railing, and unmercifully roasted 
a man who was convicted for shooting a man full 
of holes. The jury had at first handed in a verdict 
for simple assault, and he had sent it back refusing 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


273 


it. Then they came in with a verdict for assault 
in the second degree, and a recommendation for 
the leniency of the court. Hooker gave the man six 
months, or a fine of three hundred and fifty dollars, 
besides the most vigorous tongue-lashing a man 
ever received, for he had been indicted five times 
before. The man was in jail five weeks before he 
was able to raise money to pay the fine, and ten 
weeks after, Judge Hooker was on the bench try- 
ing another case, and the end man, on the front 
row of his jury, was that same criminal.* It was 
too bad, but no one could prevent* it. The law 
allowed that criminal to sit there with respectable 
men, and pass upon important matters.’’ 

“Ah ha! here we have another arraignment,” 
cried Mr. Rogers, rubbing his hands and chuckling. 
“Go on, Allen. I am with you.” 

“Well, well, gentlemen,” remonstrated the judge. 
“I will be compelled to call upon the county attor- 
ney for protection if you persist.” 

“Not from me,” said Bramble. “I am afraid I 
am with them in that.” 

“This looks like mutiny with a vengeance,” said 

* A fact. The first case was that of the state of Minnesota against John 
Wagner, Sept, term of court Hennepin county Minnesota. The second case 
on which Wagner appeared as a Juror, Bunce against George K. Newell, 
December term of the same court. 


274 


TH£ OFFICIAL EVIL 


the judge in mock horror. ‘^Well, go on.^^ 

“These petit juries have come to be composed, 
c^s a rule, of such a class of ignorant, lazy, unprofit- 
able loafers, that I for one am disgusted. I make 
a practice now of challenging every man who says 
he has no business, ^ at present,’ and taking on 
men who can at least read and write, even if they 
are a trifle biased. There is the place for the first 
reform.” 

“In what way, pray,” asked his honor. 

“It has been the practice for years, when the 
large list is made up in the spring, to place upon 
it all the ward bummers and politicians who have 
not served some certain political party sufficiently 
to have them secure large plums. Several hundred 
of these loafers are placed upon the list. Nearly 
every county officer presents a list of names to the 
sheriff, he adds a lot more and the result is that 
there is every lazy bar-room loafer in the county 
upon that list. Then it is found that the number 
is not complete, and the list is filled up from the 
tax lists, or the polling lists, and we have enough 
sensible men to leaven the mass somewhat. There 
should be a provision made for the manner in 
which the first list of names should be secured.” 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


275 


“It would certainly do away with that class of 
men that gains its livelihood by sitting upon juries,” 
assented Mr. Bramble. 

“So far you are correct,” cried Mr. Rogers, “but 
you should go farther, and make the professional 
juror impossible. I have known them to follow the 
sittings of the United States court from place to 
place, and hang around to be called as talesmen. 
When those sittings are over they repair to the 
district courts, and pursue their calling, and serve 
on juries from year’s end to year’s end. 

“We must have talesmen,” cried the judge. 

“Yes, but there are always plenty of spectators 
to choose them from, and an oath to the effect that 
a talesman had not served on a jury that year 
would do away with the professional.” 

“Oh! well of course that might be done,” said 
the judge. 

“Nor would I stop at that,” continued the en- 
thusiast. “There is a way to prevent ignorance 
at least from finding a way to a seat in a jury box. 
You are all well acquainted with the oath admin- 
istered to a juryman. It is solemn, and the word- 
ing is rather heavy, so heavy in fact that a large 
percentage of the men who are sworn in as jurors 


276 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


to try a case in our courts do not understand it. 
My plan would be to make every man stand with 
a copy of that oath, and raising his right hand 
read it off and swear in that way. It would have 
the effect of barring out many an ignorant m.an 
who now misjudges a case.’^ 

“Well, when that comes, then comes the millen- 
ium,’^ said the judge, rising and buttoning his 
“Prince Albert” about his portly form. “Have 
you anything more to suggest before I depart 
“Just one little matter,” was the reply given by 
Mr. Allen. “You are probably aware that many 
times your charge to the jury is many pages long, 
and difficult to grasp. You charge carefully for 
both sides separately. The result is that many 
times a portion of the jury grasps the meaning of 
the charge for one side, while the other portion is 
impressed with that portion of the charge which 
applies to or favors the other side, and the result 
is we have many disagreements.” 

“What would you suggest for that evil.^” asked 
the judge, pausing with his hand on the door. 

“Send a typewritten copy of the charge into the 
room with the jury.” 

“Umph,” grunted the judge as he banged the 
door to, and departed. 


THE OFFICIAL EVIL 


277 


suppose that ends the discussion/Maughed the 
county attorney, flinging the residue of his half 
consumed cigar into a far corner of the room. 

“The enemy is routed, and the day is ours,’^ 
cried Mr. Rogers. “I have been dying to say 
something on those matters for months.” 

“And so the conspiracy ends,” said Mr. Allen. 

“Who knows,” said Rogers, shaking his head. 
“Wait. Perhaps the future will have better things 
in store. Let us hope there will be a legislator 
found, fearless enough to do battle for justice and 
right.” 


CHAPTER XXL 


A LITTLE JUSTICE. 


‘‘Good bye.” 

“Good bye, everybody.” 

“Au revoir.” 

“A pleasant journey.” 

Christmas time was approaching and the utmost 
endeavors of the Allens could not induce their 
guests to remain a day longer beneath the hospit- 
able roof. Miss Laclaire it is true had taken her 
departure some days before, after it had become 
known that Donald and Lola were engaged. She 
could not bear the raillery she was forced to sub- 
mit to at the hands of Charley and Blanche, who 
would insist upon taking their little revenge when- 
ever they found the opportunity. Donald and 
Charley received a peremptory command to return 
home at once to spend the holidays, and Miss 
Dearing’s mother had threatened to come after 
her if she did not start at once. So it was decided 
278 


A LITTLE JUSTICE 


279 

that they should all go together, so that Charley 
and his future bride might travel a part of the way 
together. 

When the carriage drew up at the gate one 
evening, and the little party separated from 
the knot of people on the porch, amid hearty 
good wishes and regrets, mingled with promises to 
repeat the visit the next year, the parting came. 
Hardly had the clatter of the horses’ hoofs on the 
pavement died away in the distance, when Lola 
rushed up stairs to have a good cry. Her new- 
found happiness had so filled her life that she had 
not been prepared to bear up under the parting, 
even though she had Donald’s repeated promises 
to write to her every day. Eunice felt for her 
young friend, but was enough of a woman to know 
that she was best left to herself for a time at least. 

Mr. Allen turned to Jacob Vosse who had been 
sharing in the adieux, and in a more than usually 
serious tone of voice, requested his presence in his 
study. Vosse hung behind for a few moments 
hoping to have a word with Eunice, but that young 
lady had already stepped into the house, and was 
out of his reach. Wondering somewhat at the 
cause of the seriousness of the attorney, Vosse 


28 o 


A LITTLE JUSTICE 


then leisurely complied with the request of his 
patron, and entered the house. 

Aside from being a brilliant attorney, Mr. Allen 
was a sensible man, who rarely made mistakes 
either in his business or domestic relations. He 
had been worried considerably upon the discovery 
that his daughter had more than a passing affec- 
tion for Hector Forbes, and for a time he had been 
undecided how to act! He knew enough of human 
nature to believe that if he crossed his daughter 
or attempted to separate the two, he would only 
add fuel to the already ignited flame, and he felt 
that the best plan to pursue was to proceed as if 
nothing unusual had transpired. Therefore he 
had taken the young man directly to his house after 
his acquittal, and had invited him to call upon 
him at his pleasure. 

Subsequently he had taken counsel with his sister, 
and strange to say that sensible woman, old maid 
though she was, had boldly asserted that she saw 
no reason why the young people should not fall in 
love if they saw fit. 

“I see nothing wrong in the young man,^^ she 
had said, “and I am willing to trust to Eunice in 
choosing the man she is to pass the rest of her life 


A LITTLE JUSTICE 


281 

with. She is a sensible girl, and I do not believe 
she would pick out one who is unworthy of her. 
You know better than anybody else that the bare 
fact that he was accused of a crime is nothing 
against him, and I don*t see anything to be alarmed 
about.” 

The champion of her dear girl showed that 
Hector was not penniless; that he had several 
thousand dollars in which to start with, and as he 
was a bright fellow there was nothing to hinder his 
amassing a fortune. She asserted that she would 
prefer that to a soulless youth who might have 
inherited a competency, but who was liable at any 
moment to lose it, and thus be doubly a beggar, 
for he might have nothing wherewith to make up 
for his loss, much less support a wife. This strong 
argument almost convinced the father who was 
only too willing to see a way out of the difficulty, 
and so while the young people were silently be- 
wailing their hard fate, their elders had practically 
disposed of their case in their favor without their 
knowledge. 

Vosse entered the study of the attorney, and 
was invited to take a seat. 

“You may as well take off your overcoat,” said 


282 


A LITTLE JUSTICE 


Mr, Allen dryly. ^‘You will find it warm enough.’’ 

‘^Anything in particular?” asked Vosse after 
divesting himself of his wraps. 

‘‘Presently — yes,” was the reply of the attorney 
who had consulted his watch. “I expect a visitor 
with whom we have some business. You have 
time to wait a few moments I presume?” 

“Oh, yes.” 

Mr. Allen busied himself in sorting some corre- 
spondence at his desk until there was a ring at the 
bell, and shortly after he arose to greet Hector 
Forbes, who entered the room apparently very ill 
at ease. He was the more disturbed at seeing 
Vosse, for whom he entertained a cordial dislike, 
and had ever since his first meeting with him at 
Gray’s peak. 

“Glad to see you, young man,” was the hearty 
greeting of the attorney. “You no doubt wonder 
why I have sent for you. You will not be long in 
doubt. If I do not mistake, you have been the 
victim of a long series of injustices. They have 
been received at the hands of the law, now let one 
who practices in the law, be the means of giving 
a little justice. Be seated please.” 

Wondering what was coming. Hector sank into 


A LITTLE JUSTICE 283 

a chair, while the attorney wheeled about and 
faced Vosse. 

“Now,” he said, using his most severe legal voice, 
“I have a word or two to say to you. A year or 
so ago, you did me the honor to ask my permis- 
sion to allow you to press your suit for the hand of 
my daughter.” 

“This is hardly the time or place — ” 

“You are mistaken sir,” interrupted Mr. Allen. 
“This is the proper time, and the most proper 
place to settle this matter. At that time I assen- 
ted. I saw in you a man of considerable property 
who was desirous of studying law and I thought in 
time you might succeed me. Now I withdraw that 
consent. I have since learned that, taking advan- 
tage of my kindness, you have taken every occa- 
sion to pester Eunice with the most unheard of 
assurance. This has only come to my knowledge 
of late, or I would have severed my connections 
with you long ago. Not content with that, I find 
that you were aware that this young man was 
being tried for his liberty, and you kept that matter 
from me. You had your own reasons probably, 
reasons which I can readily guess. Then you 
plotted to injure him in the estimation of his 


284 


A LITTLE JUSTICE 


friends, when you found that they were willing to 
save him from his impending shame. I can only 
say that I am ashamed of you, that I have for you 
the most supreme disgust.” 

‘‘Any other man would have done the same,” 
said Vosse. He was pulling one end of his 
mustache savagely, and his brows were knit in 
deep anger. 

“I have not such a poor opinion of humanity,” 
cried the attorney. “Now I wish to say that our 
business relations are at an end, and I trust you 
will not inflict your presence upon me or mine 
again. That is all. You may go.” 

“I wish you well of your bargain,” said Vosse 
bitterly, rising and proceeding to pull on his over- 
coat. “If you want to make of your house a re- 
formatory for criminals, of course I can not pre- 
vent it.” 

Hector who up to that time could only sit 
quietly and listen in amazement, sprang to his feet 
at the words, his eyes flashing. He had been 
roused to a fighting point at last, and for a moment 
it looked as if slim wiry Mr. Vosse would fare 
badly at his hands. 

“Don’t mind him,” remonstrated the attorney 


A LITTLE JUSTICE 


285 


sarcastically. “He only wars with women. Leave 
him to me. Now Jacob Vosse, I will give you 
just ten seconds to leave this house, or I will make 
such use of that cane in the corner as it was never 
purchased for.” 

Vosse needed no second warning, but with a 
snarl resembling nothing so much as the disap- 
pointment of a wild beast, he left the room and 
the house, never to return. 

To Hector, the whole proceedings appeared very 
much like a dream. He had been called to the 
presence of the attorney, and the whole transact- 
ion was completed before he could understand what 
the subject at hand was. As soon as Vosse had 
departed, he realized the whole force of the scene, 
and knew that it was some act against himself 
that had partially led up to the denouement. That 
Vosse did not like him he had long known, but that 
he had deliberately planned to do him an injury, 
he never suspected. 

“Mr. Allen,” he said feelingly. “I realize more 
and more how much you are making me your 
debtor. Thanks are but empty words but if — ” 

“No thanks are due from you to me,” was the 
hearty reply. “That man has put me in a d^vil 


286 


A LITTLE JUSTICE 


of a humor, and I am hardly in a fit shape to ex- 
plain what has happened here, between Vosse 
and me. I think if you would hunt up my daugh- 
ter, she will explain, for you are no doubt curious 
to learn of Vosse’s little conspiracy.” 

do not like to worry Miss Allen with my 
affairs. She has taken too much trouble already.” 

The attorney looked at Hector sharply. He 
wondered if that show of reticence was assumed. 
That short glance assured him that however much 
his daughter might inadvertantly have confessed 
to him, the young man was in the dark as to her 
feelings toward him. He chuckled a little to him- 
self therefore as he advised Hector to make the 
attempt at least. 

^^So far as your worrying her is concerned,” he 
said, ‘‘she still thinks herself your debtor.” 

With many misgivings therefore, Hector left 
the room, and went slowly down the stairs. He 
was well aware that the lady who held his heart 
in her keeping was not far away, for he heard the 
soft tones of the piano, as if the performer was 
running over the keys mechanically, while her 
thoughts were elsewhere. He crossed the larger 
room silently, and stood half concealed by the 

19 


A LITTLE JUSTICE 


287 


drapery to the door of the music-room. A portion 
of her profile was toward him, and his heart began 
that thumping process peculiar to men in love — 
before they know they are loved in return, of course. 
He paused, half tempted to beat a retreat, then 
passed into the room, and in a voice tremulous 
with apprehension, spoke her name. 


19 


CHAPTER XXII. 


BRIDGING THE GULF. 

“Miss Allen.” 

The young lady whirled about upon the piano 
stool, not in haste, nor apparently startled by the 
voice. She knew he had been closeted with her 
father and Vosse, and had half expected that he 
would seek her ere he left the house; why she 
could not say, yet the belief was there. In fact 
she had caught the sound of his footfall upon the 
carpet, and her unheeding aspect had been as- 
sumed. She arose to her feet and approached him 
with a hand extended in all the grace of her young 
womanhood, fair to look upon, well worthy the 
love of any man. So thought Hector as his eyes 
devoured her, and his soul yearned for a response 
to the wild beating of his heart. 

“You are welcome, Mr, Forbes,” she said 
sweetly, looking into his eyes fearlessly, and with- 
out a trace of coquetry. “How welcome you 
must learn to know.” 


288 


BRIDGING THE GULF 


289 


“Your father has made me well aware of that/^ 
was his low reply. “He is a prince among men, 
as you are a queen among women.” 

“Please do not flatter. It does not sit well upon 
you. Let us be earnest.” 

“If I have inadvertantly used the words of the 
careless society man, forgive me, for I mean it in 
a different spirit. I mean it in all seriousness. 
How many women, think you, would have been 
as you have been; done as you have done? You 
found me one dark day, branded as a felon, under- 
going trial in a court-^ — a common court-room. 
The average woman would have scorned me from ^ 
that moment. You are different. You looked 
beneath the surface, and had the charity to be- 
lieve at least that the case required an investiga- 
tion. To you I owe all my present happiness, 
and all there is of life in store for me. No, I don’t 
flatter. I give you what your father forced from 
the law for me. Justice.” 

They had both seated themselves by this time in 
the tower window. She listened to him, and realized 
from the fervor of his words that he was most 
intensely in earnest. She saw too that he was of 
a different stripe from the society men of her ac- 


290 


BRIDGING THE GULF 


quaintance, and she could not help but be pleased 
at such honest admiration. She realized also that 
the subject was a dangerous one for them both, 
and adroitly changed it. 

“Mr. Vosse was with you. What happened.?’’ 

“I am afraid you are rid of him,” was the reply 
“Mr. Allen has severed all relations with him, and 
he has been forbidden the house. I was almost 
sorry for him.” 

“Sorry.? Did you learn what he had intended 
to do for you .?” 

“No, but in my present state of mind I am pre- 
pared to forgive almost anything.” 

“He tried to blacken your character by sending 
men to tell that you were a fellow-thief. I did not be- 
lieve them, and Lola proved that the plot was of his 
making. That man was positively the Nemesis of my 
life. I breathe freer to think that we are rid of 
his presence.” 

“So let him rest. He failed in his attempts to 
blacken me in your eyes, and now he can not harm 
me.” 

It had grown dark quite rapidly, and the last 
tints of twilight were speeding away to the remote 
east, following the parent sun in its diurnal round> 


BRIDGING THE GULF 


291 


The electric light in the street glared up suddenly, 
and cast the interlaced shadows of the branches 
of the trees across the beautiful face of the girl, 
while he, being in the shadow, could admire at 
his leisure. She felt his intent gaze, and shaded 
her eyes with a hand upon which a brilliant re- 
flected the rays of the street lights. 

‘‘Have you concluded what you will do?” she 
asked after a long pause. 

“I have thought of it.” 

“That reminds me that I have something serious 
to say to you,” she said. “Do you know, there is 
one thing that has worried me in your case, more 
than anything else. I have a right to think of 
your future now, you know, having in a measure 
had something to do with freeing you.” 

“You have every right. None better. Always 
remember that.” He was in deepest earnest. 

“Forgive me if I hurt you, but I am ashamed of 
the fact that you gambled out there in Denver. 
How could you? I half think it was that which 
made the money unlucky.” 

He flushed to the temples with shame, though 
she could not see it. He had not thought of that. 
Other troubles had placed that in the background. 


292 


BRIDGING THE GULF 


“Perhaps I owe you an explanation; that is I 
owe it to myself/’ was his reply. “You once 
wondered why it was that I buried myself among 
the cliffs and chasms of Gray’s peak. Some few 
years ago I was one of the wealthy young men of 
Chicago. I had more money than I knew what to 
do with, and as many another young man, I be- 
came one of the lambs of the wheat pit. The 
result was that in a short time I had run through 
with the greater part of my fortune. At an evil 
hour, I was thrown in contact with men who fre- 
quented the gaming tables of the palatial resorts 
of that city, and in them I saw a way to retrieve 
my fortunes. At first I was successful, but finally 
I was like the rest, and one morning after playing 
all night, I took my way into the street where the 
first stir of a busy day was just beginning, and 
reeled to a room in the hotel, almost a beggar.” 

“The old, old story,” she said simply, as he 
paused evidently for some word from her. 

“At first thoughts of suicide tempted me to put 
an end to my miserable existence, but after a long 
sleep I forgot them, and instead bought a ticket 
for the west. Then I buried myself far from man 
where I could undergo self-inflicted punishment for 


BRIDGING THE GULF 


293 


my past. There, one eventful day there came to 
my retreat, an angel, who brought with her mem-^ 
ories of that world I had left, and awakened in my 
soul, visions of the future, and a full realization of 
what I had lost. It was the awakening from a 
dead past. Then I thought how vain would be any 
attempt of mine at again climbing until I gained 
my lost estate, until one day that angel took 
wings and left me. In my loneliness I looked 
around, and picked from the ground, one white 
pinion from her wing. It was the omen of hope, 
and I placed it in my bosom, where it has remained 
with me always.” 

She could not well fail to comprehend his mean- 
ing, and her soul responded to his inspiring words. 
She tried to speak, but for the moment her voice 
failed her. 

‘^Why.^* oh why did you return again to your 
sinful past.!^” she murmured at last. 

^‘I tried it again for the sole purpose of learning 
if the old gambling fever had left me. I found 
that it had, for not once during the time, when I 
was winning that money, did my pulse quicken 
with the gambler’s fever, nor did the chance arouse 
interest in me. I collected my gains glad that 


294 


BRIDGING THE GULF 


the game was over, and resolved, with the feeling 
that I could keep my resolution, that never again 
would I lower myself by engaging in a game of 
chance. The next day I was more happy than I 
had been for years, for I knew that I could make 
a man of myself again. Then I thought of 
you.’^ 

What woman is there, who does not while she 
condemns, pray that she may be convinced even 
against her judgment. In the present case Eunice 
felt that Hector was in earnest; that every word 
he spoke was the truth. Her last doubt was gone, 
and her heart went out to him with all the trust 
a perfect woman can feel for the man to whom she 
has given her first affection. Her heart was in an 
ecstasy, and she panted under the impulse of a 
new delight. 

“You do not speak, he said sadly. “You have 
condemned me.’^ 

“No! Oh, no. I believe you, and trust you.’^ 

“Thank Heaven for that,” he said fervently, his 
voice broken with emotion. “I can go away feel- 
ing that I have at least your regard.” 

“Go away.'^” It was almost a cry. 

“Yes. You asked me if I had plans. I had 


BRIDGING THE GULF 295 

thought of going to New York and beginning with 
my small capital some sort of business/^ 

“Why not stay here?” 

The question came from her almost unwished, 
and the tones were hardly audible. 

“Can you ask?” he cried passionately, all his 
fortitude gone. “I could not. I feel that I must 
place distance between you and me, or suffer as I 
do not care to suffer. I could not bear it.” 

“Am I then so terrible?” 

How dull the man was. Would he never com- 
prehend. 

“No, not terrible. You are a temptation.” 

“I thought you said a little while ago, that an 
angel cast at your feet the pinion of hope. Have 
you thrown it aside?” 

With a quick motion he thrust his hand into his 
bosom, and drew therefrom that little glove that 
had never left him, sleeping or waking during all 
those months of despair. He arose and stepping 
before her, dropped it into her lap. It fell there 
and a brilliant ray from the electric light showed 
her what it was. For a moment she did not touch 
it, being content to gaze upon it her heart filled 
with joyful emotions. What a lover he was. 


296 


BRIDGING THE GULF 


What a true husband he would make. Then she 
raised it mechanically and pressed it to her lips. 

What more could she do? She knew the ques- 
tion that was racking him. She knew he felt that 
some taint of disgrace still clung to him, that 
should hold an honorable man aloof, and she must 
let him see as much as maidenly modesty would 
allow her, that he was as other men, with as much 
right to woo as they. That one action spoke to 
him as volubly as a torrent of words. He knew 
then that he might expect from her more than he had 
ever dared to hope. He bent over her chair, while 
the handsome head with its crown of dark hair 
drooped a little. He trembled, and his voice was 
hardly audible. 

“Oh, do not trifle with me. I do not believe you 
do. My guardian angel is too true a woman for that. 
Shall I stay here! Is there hope for one so un- 
deserving as I am? Oh tell me.” 

“Hope is the anchor of the brave,” she answered 
softly. “To whom am I to offer hope?” 

“To one who loves you with all the ardor of an 
earnest heart. To one whose whole future is so 
wrapped up in you, that to tear soul from soul 
would be to condemn one to a living death, now 


BRIDGING THE GULF 


297 


that it has seen the possibilities. To one who will 
think the past a blank, can he but live in that 
hopeful future.’’ 

It was dark in that window, and darker still as 
the electric light flickered and went out, but in 
some way two hands found their way to each other, 
two pair of lips joined in a first caress, two hearts 
were united in bonds of undying affection, and then 
there was a sputter and the light flared up again. 
“Forever and forever,” he whispered passionately. 
“No more uncertainty, no more pain, but hope 
everlasting, and love eternal.” 

“I have prayed for this day,” she said, her voice 
tremulous with happiness, “since that day when 
I dropped my glove at your feet, and I left you 
standing there alone on the foothills to Gray’s 
peak.” 

She would not have been a woman, if she had 
not had a confession to make. 


CHAPTER XXIIL 


A CHAMPION IN EMBRYO. 

It is a failing of humanity, that when people 
begin to expatiate upon their wrongs, they are apt 
to grow garrulous to an extreme. When the sub- 
ject is exhausted and other subjects reached, the 
tongue halts, and the expounder of his own suffer- 
ings becomes commonplace. So it is in a measure 
with a story, and when the heroes and heroines 
are extricated from their difficulties, and cleared 
from impending evils, the cause for the story ceases 
to exist, for they then commence upon a common- 
place life. 

The young people, not being aware that Mr. 
Allen had made up his mind that if they loved he 
would give his consent to their union, had decided 
to keep the fact of their mutual attachment a secret 
from him for a time, a state of things that gave an 
added charm to their betrothal, for there is some- 
thing insidious about a deep secret of that sort, 
shared only by the two contracting parties. Aunt 
298 


A CHAMPION IN EMBRYO 


299 


Rachel was not taken into the secret in spite of 
the many broad hints she gave them at times, to 
the effect that such a state of things would be 
pleasing to her. 

The speech of Mr. Allen at the trial did 
much for Hector, and he was not wanting for 
friends who were not only ready to extend to him 
the hand of welcome, but he was offered more 
than one position of trust, all of which he had 
declined. He had views of his own as to his future. 

One day not long after the events of the last 
chapter. Hector and Mr. Allen were seated in the 
latter’s study, where they were often to be found. 
The young man had been reading a current paper, 
and a discussion arose. The article in question 
was the statement that a man who had been con- 
fined in the state’s prison for five years had been 
discovered to be innocent of the charge of which 
he had been convicted. He was awaiting the 
pardon of the governor. 

“Do you mean to tell me that the man has no 
redress whatever asked Hector. 

“None whatever,” was the answer. 

“How will he be shown to be innocent in the 
eyes of the world?” 


300 


A CHAMPION IN EMBRYO 


“He will not be. The law has pronounced him 
guilty, and the law never goes back of its asser- 
tions. His release can only come through the 
governor’s pardon.’^ 

“Why can they not take him into open court, 
and have him pronounced innocent?” 

“What? Have the law admit openly that it 
had made a mistake? That would hardly do.” 

“It is a pity the state does not make him pay for 
his board for the past five years, now it is found 
that it has been boarding him under a mistake,” 
cried Hector bitterly. 

“It has never occurred to the law, or some pro- 
vision would have been made for that,” was the 
reply. “Come now, Forbes, you are always rail- 
ing at the law; why don’t you take a hand in it? 
I am getting on in years, and I want a bright 
fellow to get in touch with my way, and take some 
of the work from my shoulders. Why not study 
faw under me, and make yourself capable of mak- 
ing a fight in the right direction ?” 

Hector thought for a few moments before an- 
swering. 

“How long would it take to become capable of 
practicing at the bar. ?” 


A CHAMPION IN EMBRYO 


301 


“It would take some men forever. To one with 
your capabilities, I should say that two years of 
study would be sufficient. What do you say to it? 
You have nearly ten thousand dollars, that I can 
invest for you so that it will bring in a modest 
little income, sufficient to live upon, and you will 
soon be of enough use to me to enable me to feel 
justified in giving you a small share of my profits. 
Nothing would please me better.’’ 

“Are you quite sure that the fact of my having 
been in a felon’s dock would not injure you or your 
business? Are you sure it would make no differ- 
ence with you ?” 

“Oh bosh!,” was the petulant exclamation. 
“Don’t let me ever hear that from you again. It is 
my earnest wish, and I think you will never regret 
the move.” 

The door was pushed open softly a.t this juncture, 
and the voice of Eunice called, “May I come 
in.?” 

“Yes,” was Mr. Allen’s answer. “I have just 
been trying to prevail upon your protege to study 
law under me. Why not add your entreaties to 
mine ?” 

Eunice did not speak. Her look of animation 


302 


A CHAMPION IN EMBRYO 


was sufficient. Hector laughed a low satisfied 
laugh as he replied: 

“Well, let it be so. I had not thought to have 
anything to do with the law, but since you have 
put it in the light you have, I consent.’^ 

And so the compact was made, and Hector was 
bound under promise to become a lawyer if study 
could make him one , 

A short time after the two young people were 
left alone, and Eunice voiced her approbation of 
the resolve of her lover, 

“You have arraigned the law in strong terms, 
she said. “Now take the first steps toward trying 
it, at the bar of public opinion. I know you will 
succeed.’^ 

“I trust so for your dear sake,’^ he whispered. 
“I live for no one else now that I know you are 
mine. If you say so I must succeed.” 

“ Do you remember what I said to you on that fear- 
ful mountain she asked twining one arm lovingly 
about his neck, and smiling up into his happy 
face. ‘Your loss would have wrecked a home. 
Not a home that now is, perhaps, but the home 
that one day you will adorn, as one of the noble 
men of this modern age.’” 


A CHAMPION IN EMBRYO 


303 

^‘God bless that home,” he cried fervently, kiss- 
ing her fondly, “and make me worthy of all that 
it holds dear,” 


The End. 


NOTES. 


From Robert G. Ingersoll. 

“As our capacity to suffer is increased, we be- 
come merciful through imagination, giving to 
others the same power to suffer that we feel our- 
selves. A great thing that — to cultivate the imag- 
ination. Stupid people are capable of being very 
bad. The old laws were cruel, and they were 
hard upon the weak; cruel upon women; treating 
them like beasts of burden; trampling them be- 
neath the feet of might. Probably at the next 
term of your court, you will hear some lawyer get 
up and praise the common law — ‘Oh! the wisdom 
of the common law,’ and the judge will cough his 
approval. I tell you that the common law was 
iniquitous. It would disgrace Central Africa to- 
day, and one of the most unfortunate things for 
this country , was the fact that with freeinstiUitions, 
we adopted legal forms from the common law. I 

hate it, I despise its eruelty. Of course there 
304 


NOTES 


305 


had to be some things right in it; there is in every 
code. It allowed a husband to whip his wife and 
steal her children, and yet they talk to me about 
the ^glory of the common law.’ There has 7iot 
been an improvement made in the common law 
for five hundred years — except in repealing it. 
All the bright young attorneys praise the common 
law, because they know nothing about it. We 
are getting our laws better. I have been doing 
what little I could now and then in that direc- 
tion. The day has come when man is beginning to 
see, and I am not afraid of treading upon anybody’s 
toes (that is intelligent enough to have toes) when 
I say that. Men do what they must; that behind 
every act is an apparent cause. The cause 
exists to-day. Let us work for an improvement 
in the law.’^ 

* * * * * 

Words like the above from one of the brightest 
legal minds of the century certainly put the stamp 
of approval upon any means that may be brought 
to bear, with the ultimate object of an improve- 
ment in the law. This work deals principally with 
the grand and petit jury systems, the evils they 
inflict being so woven through a story that others 


3o6 


NOTES 


besides legal minds may care to read of them. It 
is often asserted that the criminal systems of our 
states are based upon the common law. The world 
has progressed. Nearly fifteen hundred years ago, 
Justinian the Great startled the world with his 
legal improvements, among other things, the jury. 

Attorneys will not pay any attention to the evils 
that surround the jury systems, yet they complain 
of them daily. It is to the masses of the people 
that the work of revolutionizing the system must 
be left. It is the masses of the people for whose 
protection the laws are made, and they have that 
right. 

Since the completion of this book, two cases have 
come to light that should not go unnoticed. Judge 
Brentano and a jury in the superior court of Cook 
county. 111., tried the case of Mrs. Emma Angel as 
administratrix, against Brown and others, contract- 
ors, to recover damages for the death of her little 
daughter, caused by the negligence of the defend- 
ants. The jury went out, and after sending in a 
requisition for several cases of beer, bottles of 
whisky and cigars, which were refused by the 
court, they handed in a verdict for damages to the 
sum of one cent. The order of the judge in a 


NOTES 


307 


motion for a new trial, is explanation enough, of 
the ills the jury system is open to. “It is for the 
jury to assess the damages, the rule being given 
as to measure,’’ it ran. “In this case the jury 
found part of the defendants guilty of the negligence 
charged against them in the declaration and that 
the death of the deceased child was due to their 
negligence, and with the rule as to the measure of 
damages given them in case they found the defend- 
ants guilty, assessed the plaintiff damages at one 
cent. In the discretion of these twelve men, then, 
they find the value of a human life to be but one 
cent. This court does not know the standard by 
which these men measure the value of this human 
life, unless it may assume that they applied a 
standard which they suppose would be properly 
applicable in case the value of their own existence 
was a subject of determination by some jury of their 
peers. The finding of this jury shocks the mind 
of man. It is monstrous and revolting and can 
find no support by a court possessed of any self- 
respect. What the verdict would have been had 
their requisition been honored cannot be stated, 
it can only be conjectured. * * Judge Story, in 
speaking of the great benefits of a trial by jury, 


308 


NOTES 


says ^To give it real efficiency it must be pre- 
served in its purity and dignity, and not be put in 
the hands of those who are incapable of estimating 
its worth, or who are too inert or too ignorant or 
too imbecile to wield its potent armor. ’ These 
jurors were under a solemn oath to deliberate upon 
a serious matter. That they were utterly destitute 
of the proper spirit to perform their sworn duties 
is manifest.’^ 

Shortly before Christmas of 1892, Judge Lochren 
and a jury in the Hennepin county Minnesota 
court, tried the case of Thompson against Erman- 
trout and others for damages because the elevator 
of the defendants had collapsed, carrying with it 
the mill belonging to the plaintiff. The sum of 
$65,000 was involved directly, besides $250,000 
more in disputed insurance claims. The case was 
tried for eight days, and was illustrated by numer- 
ous charts, and photographs, and explained by six 
attorneys and the court. The first break of the jury 
after going out with instructions from the court to 
find for one of the defendants, and decide as to 
the others, was to send in a demand to the deputy 
sheriff that they be taken to the West hotel, the 
highest priced hostlery in the city, and there 


NOTES 


309 


served with a banquet. The deputy was obliged to 
find the judge and receive his instructions that the 
jury would feed wherever the court directed. After 
being out thirty six hours, the jury sent for the 
judge and wanted to ask a question. The court 
solemnly opened, and that jury wanted to know 
who was the planitiff, and who the defendant. It 
went out again, and was prepared to find a com- 
promise verdict, when one juror suggested that 
such a move would be contempt of court, and they 
might all be jailed. That settled it. They became 
frightened, and refused to make another move. 
After another twelve hours it came into court, and 
failing to agree was discharged, not even handing 
in the verdict instructed by the court, so that the 
one defendant who had won his case, was still 
open to be again sued. 

These cases are authentic, and the author has 
many more at hand, that have been sent him from 
several states, since this work was announced to 
appear. There is a skeleton in America’s legal 
closet, and the door has been torn from its hinges, 
and the hideous heap of bones exposed. Who 
will bury it from sight, mind and further contami- 
nation.? Oscar F. G. Day. 

Minneapolis Minn, Jan. ist, 1893. 



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Ho Animosity, Ho North, No South, hut Union._...,.i._..aHiMaBaB^ 





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COLD MEDAL, PARIS, 1878> 


WALTER BAKER & GO'S 

Breakfast Cocoa 

FKOM WmOH THE EXCESS OF OH. HAS BEEN EEMOVED, 

Is Absolutely Pure and it is Soluble. 



No chemicals are used in its preparation. It has MORE THAN 
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THAN ONE CENT A CUP. It is delicious, nourishing, strengthening, 
EASILY DIGESTED, and admirably adapted for Invalids as well as 
for persons in health. 

Ask Your Grocer for it. Allow no Substitution. 


WALTER BAKER & CO., DORCHESTER, MASS. 





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